Little Moments
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: A series of one-shots, some connected some not. Some angst, some humor and a whole lot of love Booth and Brennan style. Ch. 40 - 40 Years.  Thanks for sharing all these 'Little Moments' with me...
1. The Feelings in the Kiss

**A/N - I'm new to the posting part of this game though I have spent many late nights and lazy Sundays reading the works of some pretty talented folks on this site. Hopefully, I can inspire them and others the way they have inspired me.**

**This is going to be a series of One-Shots. Some go together, others stand alone. Some may be inspired by songs and others are just the product of my hiatus troubled overactive imagination.**

**Mama always said if your friends jumped off a bridge, would you jump, too? Well, in terms of throwing my two cents in on what I would have liked to have seen happen at the end of the infamous 100th Episode, my answer to that is yes. Everybody else is doing it, so why not?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. I just borrowed some of their dialogue in the spirit of good fun. No copyright infringement intended.**

The Feelings in the Kiss

As they walk out of the Hoover Building and into the chill of the spring evening, he finds himself looking at her. He feels the poker-face he's used to hide his feelings slipping. He hasn't wanted to rush her, but maybe Sweets was right to call his bluff. Maybe it's time he goes all in.

He stops in his tracks. "I'm the gambler," he says softly.

Her mouth curls up in the little half smile that she uses more often with him than with anyone else. Her eyes are dancing.

"I believe in giving this a chance," he advances toward her. His voice is unsteady; the cocky, self-assured FBI agent taking a backseat to the man in love. "Look, I wanna give this a shot."

Confusion floods her face. "You mean us?" The confusion turns to sadness. "No," he can tell she's trying to retreat behind her walls. "The FBI won't let us work together as a couple..."

He reaches out to her. "Don't do that, that's no reason..." He pulls her to him, crashing his lips over hers in a kiss filled to bursting with hope for his, no _their_, future; well aware of the consequences and not giving a damn. It's as if this is the only way he can convince her.

One hand comes to rest in his spot on her lower back, effectively pulling her close to his body while the other slides up to her neck and slips into the silky curtain of chestnut hair that falls loosely to her shoulders. She stiffens briefly and her hands slide up to the lapels of his overcoat. He steels himself for the push and slap he's got coming to him for this not-so-little stunt, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, she clings to him and her lips open slightly beneath his. He takes the advantage and angles his mouth over hers using the hand in her hair to tilt her head ever so slightly. His tongue teases the corner of her mouth before tracing the soft pillow of her lower lip. He opens his eyes as he kisses her cheek and then her forehead with a sigh.

"I'm not a gambler," she mumbles softly. "I'm a scientist, I don't know how to change."

He keeps his hold on her, but moves to look into her eyes. "Bones, I don't want you to change." With a calloused hand he traces down over her hair line until he's cupping her chin. "Don't you get that? I love you. I love everything about you - from the way you wreck pop culture expressions to how you love your friends."

"But what about the FBI?" she asks quietly.

He holds his breath. It isn't perfect, not yet anyway, but he's finally getting somewhere. "We've got the highest solve rate the bureau has ever seen," he says as he begins to maneuver her toward the SUV. "I highly doubt..."

"But you can't be sure."

He chuckles. "You do realize that half of them think we've been sleeping together for years, right?"

She shoves him. "Booth, this is serious. If I'm going to consider this..." she trails off. Stopping in her tracks, she waits until he's facing her. "Would you be willing to keep this under covers, at least for now?"

He smiles broadly at her. "It's under wraps, Bones," he teases. "Under wraps. And yes, we can keep it between us for now."

She returns his smile and reaching for his hand she repeats the words he's said to her so often, "Because what's between us is ours."

He wraps his arm around her and she leans into his shoulder. "Yeah, Bones. What's between us is ours."

**A/N - So, not perfect, but I didn't want to muck with it too much. **


	2. The Proof in the Wait

**A/N - I've got about a dozen pre-written and waiting for my beta's review. I'll post as often as I can, but I'm a Mac user so I have to borrow a friend's PC to update.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

The Proof in the Wait

"Bones," he moans against her lips as she kisses him. "I should really go."

They had been eating Thai food and watching some movie she couldn't remember the name or plot of. He was too damn distracting. It fascinates her because not much about their relationship has changed. She's begun to realize what other people had seen all along; she and her partner had been dating for quite some time, just without all of the physical benefits. "But I want you to stay."

He scrubs his hand along his jaw. "Bones, baby..."

"Don't call me baby," she protests as she snuggles closer. "I want you to make love to me, Booth."

Squeezing his eyes shut, he removes her hands from around his neck and holds her wrists gently. Fighting back the desire he knows is evident, he says the only thing that comes to his mind. "We're not ready."

She growls in frustration and squirms in his lap. "Your body suggests otherwise and I'm sure you would find that mine is quite ready as well."

He places his hands on her hips, both stilling and steading her. "I want you. More than you know or could ever imagine," he takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "but we're not ready."

She stands up. "We've wasted so much time already," she pouts. "We move too much slower and it'll never happen..."

He moves to face her. His eyes meet hers and his hands cup her face. "Look at me, Temperance." When she does, she sees his eyes are dark with desire. "I love you and I want to make love to you. More than anything. But we aren't ready." He kisses her forehead and the tip of her nose. He looks deeply into her eyes.

"When will we be ready?" her voice is almost childlike and comes in a whisper.

He kisses her softly. "I need to show you I'm not like the other guys. I told you from the start that I wanted to take this slow and ease into the changes," he pulls her close and drops a final kiss on her lips. "Good night, Bones."

**A/N - If you enjoy smut, check out my "M" rated follow up to this one entitled ****Breaking the Laws of Physics****.**

**Until next time...**


	3. The Man with the Broken Heart

**A/N - This piece and it's two counterparts were written pre-finale.**

**A/N 9/21/2010 - Follow ups to this Chapter are The Woman on the Edge and The Couple in the Crossroads. This note is the only change/addition to this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, if I did we'd be done with all of the will-they-won't-they mess.**

The Man with the Broken Heart

From the first time he saw her, he _knew_. From their first kiss he knew. He knew that she was the one and that he was irrevocably changed forever.

Still, it took years and a push from the boy-wonder psychologist for him to confess his feelings and only seconds for her to crush his heart. Now _that_ was a moment he wished he could forget.

Alas, Love can be a cold mistress; giving you just enough hope to leave you seeking more satisfaction. He was too old for this. Too old for the games and the waiting around. Too old to be taking advice from a kid who looked like he was barely old enough to shave. Old and tired. When had he become this way?

"_I have to move on, Bones. I've got to find someone who can love me for thirty or forty or fifty years."_

"_I know."_

He lifts the beer in his hand to his lips and takes a long pull. _Yeah. Moving on had worked out really well for him. _The events of the previous night crash back over him like a wave pounding him against a rock.

B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B

He and Catherine stumbled down the hall to his apartment kissing. She caressed his face as she pressed her lush body against him. She wore a blue wrap dress that clung to her every curve and made her eyes that much brighter. Her mouth skimmed over a sensitive spot on his throat.

He closed his eyes and fumbled with the key desperately attempting to open the lock. "Seeley," she mewled, her voice thick with desire as she clung to him, her hands moving greedily over his chest and down his thighs.

"Christ, Cat, you've got to..." he was still having trouble with the keys. They dropped from the lock and hit the floor. When had he become so clumsy?

She bent down to grab them and, pressing her backside against him, she used his keys to let them into his apartment. Bringing her lips to his, she moved towards the couch. She fondled the tiny dolphin pattern on his tie. "I'm so glad you liked this..." she said softly as she began to strip it off and open the buttons of his dress shirt.

He moaned as she slid her fingers over his skin and tangling a hand in her hair brought her lips down to his in a searing kiss. He opened his eyes and stared into hers for a moment. _No, no, no. This was not happening. His body began to rebel. He should have been hard in an instant the rate they were going at it. But her eyes weren't the right shade of blue and her hair was black, not auburn. His mind was filled with thoughts of a different woman._ "Cat, I..."

Sensing something was wrong, she removed herself from his lap and grabbed her purse from where she had deposited it on the coffee table. "I can't believe this," she said defiantly as she stalked away from him. "I hope she's worth it, Seeley. I really do." The door slammed closed behind her and he was alone.

B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B - B&B

He looks at the papers spread on the coffee table in front of him and finishes off his beer. Sniper School Instructor. Afghanistan. One year.

Maybe he needs a change of pace and scenery. Sure, he said he wasn't going to leave her. He said they could still work together. Who in the hell did he think he was kidding? Especially since from the sound of it she didn't want to solve murders anymore. Had she struck him, he would have been in less pain. If she was giving up, why shouldn't he?

**A/N - Geez. In re-reading this I realized how angsty it was. I've got somewhere in the neighborhood of a dozen prewritten pieces with varying themes ready to go. I'll leave it up to reviews whether I post the connecting Brennan piece or something happier. Let me know what you want to see!**


	4. The Skeleton in the Office

**A/N - This one goes out to PercyzBookworm; I hope this meets your definition of fluffy. Enjoy!**

**A big thank you to all of you who have taken the time to share your thoughts with me. I now understand what other writers mean when they say how motivational reviews are. It's because of you guys that I managed to hammer out 1,100+ words before hitting the sheets last night. Your kind words bring a smile to my face and inspire me in a way I could never quantify. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You humble me and I can only hope to be worthy of your praise.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

The Skeleton in the Office

He's gone when she gets up that morning. _Unusual_. In the six months they've been living together, she'd usually been the first one up. Turning, she sees the note on his pillow and reads:

_Bones,_

_Had a few things I wanted to get off my desk so we can enjoy our weekend with Parker. Coffee is fresh. Lunch at the diner?_

_Love you,_

_Booth_

She smiles and inhales taking in the rich hazelnut aroma that percolates through the apartment. _How did I miss the smell of my favorite coffee brewing?_ She hurriedly showers and dresses. Pouring herself a cup, she picks up her keys and makes her way to the lab.

The light is on in her office. _That's strange. _ She's sure she turned it off when she left last night. She looks around feeling almost as though she's being watched. When she makes it to her office she gasps.

A sea of daffodils covers nearly every surface of the room. Sitting in her chair is a skeleton - the kind you'd find in a high school science lab. Curious, she moves toward it. Getting closer, she notices a hand-printed sign hanging around it's neck. _Marry me, Bones?_

"Booth?" His arms snake around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder as he pops open a velvet jewelry box. She turns to face him.

He gives her the cocky lopsided grin she calls his charm smile. "Bones," he says softly, "Temperance. I told you once that I knew. I still do, only I think you know, too." He brings her hand to his lips. "I don't need to marry you to know I'm going to spend the rest of my life loving you; but we both know that I want to. If you don't or you want to wait..."

"While I feel that marriage is an antiquated ritual, I do wish that you would let me answer the question before you start trying to talk me out of it," she teases softly, her eyes twinkling.

He chuckles but doesn't move or lessen his hold on her hand. _How he loved this woman. Loved everything about her. Dare he hope...? _Taking a deep breath, he voices the question. "Will you marry me?"

She beams at him. "You've made me believe in things I once thought were impossible," she squeezes his hand. "Yes, I will marry you. But because I want to spend the next thirty or forty or fifty years of my life with you, not because the alpha male in you needs to mark me."

He laughs and crushes his lips against hers. He can taste the coffee on her tongue. When they finally break apart, he can't help but tease back, "I guess I can take this back then," he says snapping the box closed and slipping it back into his pocket.

"I don't understand. I thought saying yes meant you put the ring on my phalange?" she pouts slightly.

He catches her hand in his and brushes his lips over her knuckles before slipping the ring around her delicate finger.

"Do you like it?" He holds his breath. He knows she has more money than he'll make in his entire lifetime. Part of him is embarrassed it isn't bigger. In a second that concern vanishes.

She does something totally unexpected and very un-Bones. Something many newly engaged women have done throughout modern history. She holds out her hand so that her new bauble catches the light. But it's the sparkle in her eyes, not of the jewel that he's looking at. "It's beautiful..." she murmurs softly before bringing her lips to his in a tender kiss tempered with the kind of love that would last for far longer than 50 years. This was a love that would last a lifetime.

**A/N - Yeah. So, it was silly and sweet and it would so **_**never**_** happen that way. Thanks for crawling into my imagination yet again...this one was a lot of fun to write and came out of left field.**

**I'll be tied up with family stuff over the long weekend and likely won't be able to post again before Tuesday evening. With any luck I will have another chapter for this one and a new project to spice up our lives ready by then. Two-For-Tuesday? Hmm, I like it! Perhaps that will be my new tradition. **

**Until next time...**


	5. The Woman on the Edge

**A/N - I'm out of town on a business trip in a small town until Friday with nothing to do in the evenings. If properly motivated, I may post a few extra chapters this week...**

**Companion piece to ****The Man with the Broken Heart****.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Bones.**

The Woman on the Edge

She stares at her computer monitor. A dig. Indonesia. One year. The possibility sounds like the answer to her unspoken prayer to the deity she doesn't believe exists. _But what about Booth?_

He said he _knew_. Unlike bones and hard evidence, love was something she knew nothing about.

She can rationalize her attraction to him with very little effort: his superior bone structure and excellent musculature, along with countless other attributes, made him an ideal candidate for a mate. But almost everyone she has ever loved has disappointed or abandoned her. Her parents. Her brother. Zack. Why would Booth be any different?

She likes things neat, compartmentalized. Day in and day out the situation between them was growing more complex and complicated. She trusts him with her life, but she doesn't trust herself.

He needs thirty or forty or fifty years. She isn't sure where she'll be next week, much less thirty years from now.

_What if..._ a little voice in her head begins to nag her.

She picks up her phone. Normally, she'd call Booth in a situation like this, but she can't. He _is_ the situation.

A breathless Angela answers the phone. "What's wrong, Sweetie?"

Brennan is taken off guard. "I'm sorry I bothered you, Angela. It sounds like I have interrupted something."

She knows it has to be important for Brennan to call her, so she pushes Jack back to his side of the bed and mouthes for him to be quiet. "Bren, it's okay," she says softly. "Tell me what's going on."

"I got an invitation for a dig in Indonesia. I'm considering..."

The artist stops her friend mid-sentence. "Whoa. Don't you dare tell me you are thinking about taking this. Sweetie, you can't. You can't run away from Booth."

Brennan lets out a shaky breath. "I'm not running away, Ange. I'm giving him space. He said he needs to move on and I'm not sure I can be around to watch that..." She's shocked by the sadness in her own voice.

Angela reaches across the bed and grasps Jack's hand. "Do you really want him to? Move on I mean?" There is no response and for a moment she thinks the line has gone dead. Then a ragged breath and strangled sob fill the quiet. "Sweetie, I..."

Jack takes the phone from her as she buries her face in his shoulder. "Dr. B, I think what Ange is trying to say is that we don't want to see you make the same mistake we made. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, I know you love him. We all know, well, except for maybe Booth." He strokes his wife's hair and kisses her temple. "It's not too often that we get second chances, even less that we get a third or a fourth."

_Hodgin's words hit like a bus. Or was it a train?_ _Was she really the only one that didn't know how she felt? What she was capable of?_

Angela came back on the phone. "You can do this, Bren. Please? Please try?"

"Ange..." she begins. _She what? She has no idea._

"Promise me, Sweetie, before you go making any rash decisions and jaunting off to examine thousand year old dead guys, you'll talk to one sexy Special Agent." She chuckles softly. "I know you think you're better with the dead, but why not try using some of that energy on the living for a change?"

Brennan sighs. "I'll think about it," she says slowly.

Before she realizes it, she's in front of his building with her car pulled into the space next to his all too familiar SUV.

**A/N - Only one piece left to this little angst-filled three-shot. I think I can promise you'll like where I end up...**

**A big THANKS! to EmmyMayyy and Gemlily5 for their suggestions and words of wisdom. I've got a couple surprises in the works.**

**So, what's next? I'd love for you guys to drive the bus and tell me what you'd like to see...**


	6. The Couple in the Crossroads

**A/N - I have zero self control. A couple of my favorite people wanted to know how this turned out, so I'm posting it without having first run it by my trusty beta. Any mistakes are, therefore, all my fault. **

**I, for one, am VERY happy with it. I hope you all enjoy it and find it to be a worthy conclusion to it's companions - ****The Man with the Broken Heart**** and The Woman on the Edge.****  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. **

The Couple in the Crossroads

_Nothing on ESPN. Nothing worth watching on Fox or any of the other channels he flips through. Seriously? How many Goddamn channels were running _Friends_ re-runs? He had seen Ross chasing Rachel on at least two channels. How did anyone find that will-they-won't-they shit appealing?_ He cuts the TV off and, gulping down the rest of his beer, throws the remote on the coffee table. He's just closed his eyes and put his head on the back of the couch when he hears someone outside his door.

He'd recognize her knock anywhere. _Dammit. Why now? Why tonight?_ He's only just barely been able to curb the habit of spending what little down time he has with her since that night outside the Hoover. He's incredibly torn. Torn between pretending he isn't there and opening the door, and his heart, to her all over again. It's going to be latter he realizes as soon as he hears the spare key in the lock.

"What are you doing here, Bones?" he asks without getting up from his position on the couch. He shoots her a piercing look. A look that lasts only long enough for him to take in her expression and body language.

She looks deflated. Her face is puffy; eyes bloodshot and rimmed red. "Booth..."

And like the fool he is, he has his arms around her in an instant. "What happened? Did Hacker hurt you?" he asks, fuming even as he offers her comfort. "I swear the fact the he's my boss won't stop me from..."

She shakes her head against his chest. "Andrew and I stopped seeing each other weeks ago. I need to talk to..." her voice trails off and she pulls away from his embrace. She looks around for signs that he isn't alone and notes two empty beer bottles on the table in front of the sofa. "Is Catherine here?"

Booth turns and flicks the lock back into place, leaving her hovering just inside. "Catherine and I..." _What was he supposed to say?_ _Gee, Bones, I couldn't make love to Catherine because I couldn't get you out of my freakin' head._ "We broke up. It appears the pink elephant in the room was getting in the way."

Confusion crosses her delicate features. Her brow furrows. "Elephant's aren't pink, Booth, and I highly doubt you could get one..." She's being too literal. Again.

_God, he loves this woman,_ he thinks to himself as it dawns on her it's just an expression. _All the more reason to get the hell outta Dodge..._

"Booth, I..." she struggles to find the words. _There's no easy way to say it, Temperance. Just come out with it._ "I got an invitation for a dig in Indonesia."

He stares at her for a minute; his eyes wide, all the color draining from his face. His mouth falls open. Sure, he's been thinking about leaving, but this... _This infuriates him._ "How could you even..." his voice is filled with sadness and disappointment. "You asked me if we could still be partners and yet you're considering leaving me to go half way around the world?" He runs a hand over his hair and clenches his jaw. "Not cool, Bones."

She reaches for him but he steps away from her. "Booth..."

"If you came her to say good bye, Bones, I don't want to hear it." He moves back to reach for the doorknob. His head is spinning. _Or maybe it's the floor shifting beneath his feet. With any luck, perhaps it'll open up and swallow him whole._ He wants to hurt her, so he turns back to face her and throws it out there. "You know what? Good. Go play with your ancient remains. The army wants me to train snipers, maybe I should go."

Her eyes fill with tears as she takes the three steps needed to bridge the gap between them. "Please, Booth," she fists her hands in his t-shirt. "Don't go."

He grabs her wrists, shaking her. His eyes burn into hers. "Why not? You're leaving. What reason does that give me to stay?"

"I turned it down," she says softly, so softly it's barely heard over the pounding of their hearts. Her eyes are wide with fright and uncertainty at his actions, but she _knows_ he would never hurt her. "I know it's irrational, but I didn't think I could be away from you that long. Not even knowing how things are between us right now." She looks down at the way he's gripping her. She doesn't have the caged feeling she expects. Rather, she finds herself afraid that he will, in fact, let her go.

"Come again?" he asks, his eyes narrowing. He remains tense and unwilling to let her see how she's affecting him. _Dare he hope?_

She draws in a deep and unsteady breath. _She knows him. She knows that if she looks at him - really looks at him - he'll understand._ She turns her eyes up to his. "I'm still not sure I can change..."

His heart flutters and his hands drop from her wrists to her waist. "I never asked you to," he shakes his head and leans his forehead against hers. "Look, Bones; I love you for who you are. I'd never asked you to change."

"I want to learn," she says, resting her hands against his pectorals. Slowly and with a shyness he'd never have expected from her, she tilts her lips up to his.

At first, he doesn't move. He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe. He just feels. Feeling her lips moving over his, he revels in a sensation he wasn't sure he would ever feel again. He savors the softness of her hair as his hand finds the back of her neck. He marvels at the small moan that escapes her mouth as he angles her lips to take better access. _Kissing her was inevitable. _

She can taste his beer as her tongue brushes against his. Her hands steal up the firm contours of his chest, arms circling his shoulders. _It feels natural. Right. Like she's meant to be here. With him._

He sighs deeply and presses her back against the door. _Yes. Kissing her had been inevitable. And the good Lord willing, he'd be kissing this woman, his Bones, every day for the rest of his life._


	7. The Hurt in the Fight

**A/N - So, this is another in my line of experiments - a song-fic. I wanted to try different things and see what I enjoyed the most. This isn't my favorite and I'm not sure I'll do again, but I'm putting it out there anyway because MJ likes to remind me that I'm my own worst critic.**

**It's probably WAY out of character, but I think that Brennan would get more emotional once Booth cracks her shell. Fair warning: my beta is in the Big Apple this week, so this one hasn't been proofed. ****I'd love to hear your thoughts - good or bad.**

**Disclaimer: It isn't mine. If it was, we would be hanging onto the edge of our seats waiting for Season 6 for entirely different reasons. Oh, and the song I drew my inspiration from doesn't belong to me either.**

The Hurt in the Fight

They've always "bickered." That wasn't something that had changed when they started their little experiment 6 months ago. But the last time it hadn't been bickering. Nope. It had been a full on fight. A real humdinger that had culminated in her yelling "get out" and him yelling "fine" before slamming her door.

They hadn't spoken in 48 hours. Not a single word. There had been no new cases. No lunches or late night take-out. Just deafening silence. She had firmly ensconced herself in Limbo after receiving his text:

_Going off the grid on assignment. Not sure when I'll be back._

Angela suggested a girls' night out. Tired of her friend's hovering, she had reluctantly agreed. Now she stands in a heap of clothes in her closet. She pulls on that little black dress - the one he had gotten her on the Vegas case. She slips on the sexy red Jimmy Choos Cam had once told her looked perfect with it.

She feels sick. She hasn't been out or dressed up for anyone but him since she can't remember when. She calls Ange and cancels. _What about going shopping tomorrow? _Yeah. Like retail therapy could fix this problem.

She misses him. Terribly. It's completely irrational. When had she become so emotional? She tears the shoes from her feet and throws one violently across the room where it crashes into a mirror sending shards of glass sprinkling over the hardwood floor.

Walking back to her bedroom, she strips off the dress adding it to the pile on the closet floor. The skimpy black lace making up her bra follows it quickly. In the darkness, she walks over to the bureau and opens the top drawer. She draws the soft cotton of his training t-shirt to her nose and inhales deeply. Though it's been washed and carefully put away, she can still pick up a faint hint of his aftershave. She slips it on, her fingers tracing the letters of his last name printed over her left breast. _Booth._

She gets into bed as fresh tears begin to fall all over again. Wearing nothing but his shirt and tiny panties she slides under the covers. She pulls the comforter around her shoulders as she curls more tightly into a ball.

Reaching for her cell phone she taps out a text of her own and hits send.

_Nothing feels right when I'm not with you. I'm sorry. I love you. Please come home._


	8. The Reunion at the Coffee Cart

**A/N - Because I'm stressed out and needing something to brighten my day and because it wouldn't be a Bones serial without a little Season 6 speculation, here I am inserting my two cents into the equation. This is what I want to see...**

**Season Premiere is only a week away!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

The Reunion at the Coffee Cart

It's been a year. A year of heart-crushing soul-searching. What should have been the discovery of a lifetime left her feeling empty and miserable. It should have been a surprise, but it wasn't. Part of her had expected her feelings for him would dissipate the longer they were apart. That she would think about him less as the year went on. That hadn't been the case.

Being away from this place - away from D.C. - had never seemed like a big deal before. She's gone on digs before, come back, picked up right where she had left off. This time was different. Emotional. It had taken time away to truly realize she had found what she had lost when her parents and brother abandoned her - a home, a family. Booth had told her there was more than one kind of family and he'd been more right than she'd realized.

_Booth. The man that grounded her and brought her back to center. _She's come to realize in her time away that he's been right about a lot of things, including her. She's sure the writer in her has spun every possible outcome for this situation, but it doesn't help her relax.

She glances at her watch as she walks to the coffee cart. She wishes she'd had time to go home and shower, but wasn't about to risk making him believe she'd forgotten.

She walks down to the reflecting pool and sighs as she watches the sun sparkling on it's surface. Memories of their last visit bring a sting of pain. This was where the decision had been made to spend a year apart. It was where she told him she wasn't sure she could solve murders anymore.

"Bones." She hears his pet name for her and feels her tension melting like butter on warm toast. _God how she's missed being called Bones. _A smile breaks over her lips - the first smile to reach her eyes since she can't remember when - and she turns to him.

* * *

He can't believe he's home. Spending a year under the blazing sun surrounded by the grit of sand and the blood of soldiers too young to understand the meaning of war he's come to a conclusion. _Moving on is pointless._ There is never going to be anyone for him but Temperance Brennan. _Bones. His _Bones_._He'll take her anyway he can - even if it means just being her partner.

He wishes he'd had time to change out of his fatigues, grab a hot shower but he hadn't wanted to miss her. With the keen eyes of a trained sniper, he scans the area.

A woman stands with her back to him. Her hair hangs in a long chestnut ponytail that reaches almost halfway down her back. She wears khaki shorts and a deep green shirt. His heart begins to pound and he doesn't even need to see her face. "Bones," he calls out to her.

He takes off his cover and holds his arms out to her. Running to him, she kisses his cheek and wraps her arms around his neck as his own engulf her. For a moment they just cling to each other. Without thinking, he murmurs against her ear, "God, Baby, I've missed you so much."

She doesn't flinch or stiffen at the endearment like he's expecting. Instead, she takes his hand and moves to the nearest bench. "Booth," she says, the soft fingers of her hand brushing delicate circles over his rougher skin. "Does that mean you haven't moved on? I'm not too late?"

Glistening blue eyes, eyes that sparkle like aquamarine gemstones, meet his as he takes in the sight of her. "Bones," he begins, the corner of his mouth curling upward.

She holds a finger to his lips. "I was wrong. I thought I couldn't change but I can and I have. It took me being away from you to realize that the only person I was really protecting was myself." She squeezes his hand. "If it's not too late, I'd really like to give this - _us_ - a shot."

His eyes dance and he leans in close to her. He hadn't hoped it would be this easy. "Bones," he says softly, the hand not in hers coming up to stroke her cheek. "It could never be too late."

Her eyes flutter closed as his lips brush over hers in a gentle caress. It's light and filled with promise and hope. It isn't driven by lust, like their first kiss, or desperation, like the one outside the Hoover. It's not about steamboats and puckishness. _This is new. It's unlike anything she's ever experienced._

His hand slips from her cheek to the back of her neck; pulling her closer his tongue traces over the sensitive line of her upper lip seeking the access she readily grants. This deepened kiss is laced with something else - _passion and promise_.

Reluctantly, he pulls away. He's not the prude she thinks he is, but he isn't going to put on a show for the entire mall.

"So," she pants, keeping his hand in hers as she attempts to be casual, rational even. "When are you taking me on our first date?"

He chuckles and draws her into his embrace.

She smiles. _So this is what it feels like. Home._


	9. A Copy of an Original

**A/N: I'll explain where this little plot bunny came from at the end...**

**It's probably a little too short, but it's fresh and holds a deeper meaning for me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

A Copy of an Original

He's in a meeting with the other regional directors when his secretary knocks on the door. "Excuse me, Director Booth."

"Hang on just a second guys," he says turning from the monitors and looking at the girl. The look on her face is telling. _This isn't good._ "What is it, Sarah?"

She gestures toward the screens. "Are you sure you..."

He gestures for her to come out with it.

"Your wife called."

There are cat calls from the other department heads. It's no secret who Booth is married to or, for that matter, who's in charge. He knows he's in for it. If not from Bones then from the other end of the conference call.

She holds a small slip of paper, "She says and I quote, 'You tell him I said this is his problem and that he's got ten minutes to get over here or I'm filing for divorce.'"

"How long ago did she call?" he asks, immediately knowing the problem.

"Three minutes ago. I know you said I should..."

He whistles and gets to his feet grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the chair. "Sorry to cut this meeting short, but I gotta run..." He's out of the office so quickly he misses the jokes about being a kept man.

_Thank God he still had sirens on the SUV. _He makes it to the Jeffersonian with less than a minute to spare. He swipes his card and walks up onto the platform where Bones stands between a young FBI Agent and an even younger forensic anthropologist.

"I blame you for this, you know?" she says. Taking off her glasses, she brushes her lips softly over his cheek and begins to walk away. "I'll be in my office when you're done here."

"Diner?" he asks her and she nods in agreement. Once she's gone, his hands fall to his hips and his mouth tightens as he looks at the young man and woman in front of him. He addresses her first, "Megan, I apologize. For what it's worth, Bones and I had fits and starts when we began our partnership."

"But..." the young man stutters.

Booth silences him with a hand. "I'll get to you in a minute," he says without looking the kid in the eye. "Why don't you go see if Dr. Brennan has anything else for you today and, if not, head on home. Okay?"

She nods and snaps off her rubber gloves. "Thank you, Director Booth."

He turns his sights on the remaining figure on the platform. "Come on, buddy. How many times do I have to tell you - cops don't solve cases like these, squints do."

He rolls his eyes and shuffles his feet. "I thought it was good police work that solved murders."

"Henry Jared Booth," the older man says with a shake of his head as he pulls the younger man into an embrace. "Your mother's right, you know? You're too much like me for your own good..."

**A/N - Bet you didn't see that one coming...or maybe you did?**

**My best friend's dad passed away last night. In thinking how alike they are - or rather were - this little thread popped into my head. Hopefully it made a few of you smile. Please send warm thoughts toward the Big Apple.**


	10. The Parts in the Sum of a Family

**A/N - This has been done before. Repeatedly. But not by me. Hopefully you all enjoy my take.**

**A big thank you to everyone who has offered kind words regarding the death of my beta's dad last week. Sorry for any delay being beta-less has caused in updating this and my other story The Promise in the Good-bye. I hope to be updating that one by the end of the week but feel less comfortable posting unbetaed - is that even a word? - chapters for it than I do here since it's a continuing piece.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Bones. **

The Parts in the Sum of a Family

Joy Christine Brennan-Booth stirs softly in her mother's arms. He stares down at the tiny pink bundle and wonders, yet again, how he managed to get _here_.

"I think someone wants her Daddy," Brennan says with a smile.

_He isn't going to argue with that_. Scooping his little girl up, he cradles her against his broad chest. "Who's Daddy's little princess?" he coos brushing his lips over the child's forehead.

Brennan laughs and smiles. "Really, Booth? Neither of us is royalty, thus eliminating Chrissy's chances..."

Booth looks at the baby. "Don't listen to her, Princess, Mommy has no idea what she's talking about."

Brennan takes in the sight of how tenderly he holds their daughter. The big alpha male cuddles the tiny baby to his body and holds her with such immense tenderness and care. "Booth..." she complains. It's quite clear how much he loves their daughter already; she's definitely going to be Daddy's Girl.

He shakes his head and throws her a charm smile. "Gotta start early, Bones. The sooner I spoil her, the easier it'll be to keep the boys at bay."

There's a knock at the door. Parker and Rebecca enter the room with balloons and a pink teddy bear. "Can I see my sister?" he asks with a bright smile.

Booth moves to a chair in the corner and sits down so the baby is at Parker's eye level.

"Parker, where are your manners?" Rebecca asks. "Aren't you going to say hello to Dr. Brennan?"

"Hey, Bones," he tosses over his shoulder with a wave as he quickly moves to join his dad.

"Parker, meet your baby sister." Booth says as he carefully pulls the blanket apart to give the boy a better look. "Joy Christine, this is your big brother." Booth watches as his son looks at his daughter for the first time and holds his breath. "We're going to call her Chrissy."

Parker reaches out and touches the baby's tiny hand. "Hi, Chrissy. I'm Parker. I don't live with Dad and Bones, but I'll see you all the time and when you're big enough I'll teach you how to play soccer and you can come to my games."

"I think she'd really like that, bud," he says as he reaches out to ruffle the boy's sandy curls.

Parker carefully tucks the stuffed toy between his father and sister. "A little present from your big brother."

Rebecca joins them, resting her hand on Booth's shoulder. "Seeley, Temperance," she says looking at the child, "She's beautiful."

Booth looks at Bones, his eyes communicating with her. It's Brennan who speaks. "Would you like to hold her?"

Rebecca's eyes light up. "Could I? It's been so long since I held a baby."

Booth smiles and transfers his daughter into Rebecca's arms just as his cell phone begins to ring.

"Hey, Pops," he answers. "She's beautiful, just like her mom." He pauses the length of his grandfather's reply. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I only have to worry about _one_ of them with Parks, but _all_ of them with Chrissy." He chuckles and swipes his hand over his face. His daughter is only a few hours old; he doesn't want to think about her having sex - _ever_. "We can't wait for you to see her either." He pauses and laughs again. Hank's a real pisser. "Yeah, Pops," he says tenderly as he looks first at Brennan and then at Chrissy. "I know precisely how lucky I am."

**A/N - I stole the one vs. all comment from my future brother-in-law who someday hopes to give me more nephews to spoil rather than any nieces. It sounded like something that fit well with the Booth clan.**

**On another note, I totally geeked out in Target this morning. I found and purchased a Brainy Smurf mug that says "Genius at work" - of course only you other Bones fanatics will get the significance. Wow, someone please tell me I'm not a total freak...because right now I feel like a freak... *hangs head***


	11. The Tears in the Anthropologist

**A/N - Because I haven't gotten myself into enough hot water lately, I've decided to post this today... **

**It's rainy in my neck of the woods and I'm feeling angsty. I'm also not looking forward to the bridal h-e-double-hockey-sticks of my sister's shower and bridesmaids' luncheon this weekend.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

The Tears In The Anthropologist

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears of a former life. Maybe it isn't a former life she is mourning but rather the future she could have had if only she had been willing to let go and release the demons that haunt her.

As the tears fall onto her cheeks like the rain that had fallen on them seven years ago she thinks of the many "if onlys."

_If only she had gone home with him that first night. At least then she would have known his body._

_If only she had begged him to stay with her after he pulled her from her would-be grave in the car. In cheating death that night maybe she could have opened her heart to him._

_If only she had forced him to let her stay with him after she rescued him from the ship. Perhaps then, in yet another moment where one of them had escapes the reaper's grasp, they'd have made it work._

_If only she had said "yes" outside the Hoover Building when he asked her to give them a shot. They would have said "I love you" and both known it was in more than "an atta boy" kind of way._

If she lived to be 100, that would be her biggest regret. Not having told him she loved him. Never again feeling the warmth of his kiss. Now she would never get the chance.

As she enters the church and makes her way down the aisle she wishes she was here for another reason. At this moment, she wishes she was here to witness him marrying someone else because then at least he would still be here. Parker would still have his father. Jared his brother. Hank his grandson. And she, she would still have the love of her life, her best friend, if only as her partner.

Instead, he had gone and ignored her request not to be a hero and had gotten himself killed. He had saved three of his men that day, though it was of little comfort. She should have known asking him was a pointless endeavor - asking Seeley Booth not to be a hero was tantamount to asking the man not to breathe.

She sinks into the pew beside Hank and the old man takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. "Shrimp said I'd know if I should give this too you," he says softly as he sees the pain in her eyes. He pulls an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit coat and hands it to her.

She removes a piece of stationary from the envelope and reads Booth's handwriting:

_Bones,_

_So, if you're reading this it means I didn't make it back. I imagine that you're pretty pissed that I didn't listen to you about the whole hero thing, but you need to know something. _

_Everything I do, every day, I do because I have to be the man worthy of your love and the love of my son. Knowing you, you re-read that last sentence. For what it's worth, I knew, so don't go hating yourself thinking you never told me. I knew that night outside the Hoover and I knew when I drew my last breath. That's the thing about love, Baby - it's about actions. The words, while important, mean very little if you don't have anything to back them up._

_I love you. I'll always love you. I'm sorry I wasn't smart enough to hold you. To fight for you. To never let you go._

_Booth_

She folds the letter back into the envelope, a tear sparkles in the corner of her eye. It slips down to her chin and into her lap where it is quickly joined by may brothers and sisters as she meets Hank's gaze. "He knew."

**A/N - I'm ducking the rotten tomatoes ya'll are probably throwing at me...what can I say? I finally understand what those of you who write mean when you say "The muse demanded this be written." I wrote it out long hand during a meeting fully expecting different words to fall onto the page. ****Better than having him end up with The Bad News Blonde (can't take credit for that one...I stole it from Gemlily5) don't you think? **

**Dare I point out that much like the Season 4 finale, this could have been a dream? Perhaps Brennan awakens in the jungle heat in a cold sweat and realizes that she...eh, the important thing is that Booth is living and breathing in the next chapter, right?**


	12. The Comfort in His Arms

**A/N - I'd been toying with this thread for a bit and I finally got around to putting the finishing touches on this morning. I've been neglectful in updating this collection because I've been distracted by other projects both here and in the real world. Hopefully, I'll get this baby back on track...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. It isn't mine. Blah, blah, blah. You know the drill. That said, a few of my lovely reviewers have said that they wished I wrote for the show...**

The Comfort of His Arms

They gather under the little tent at Arlington National Cemetery. She clutches his letter in her hand. Her words to him echo in her own ears - _Whatever you do, don't be a hero. Don't be you._

The guard assembles preparing to fire a final salute. A salute to a fallen hero. A grandson being buried by his grandfather. A father who won't see his son grow into a man. A man who will never get to hear the words uttered by the woman he knows felt them.

She can't take it. Something in her snaps. She turns on them, pulling off their hats, sure that this is just like the last time. That he isn't really dead. That he hasn't really been taken from her.

But none of them are the man she is looking for. None of them are the man who holds her heart. Who has unknowingly held it all along.

"No!" she cries out in her sleep. Semi-unconscious, she launches herself into an upright position and finds herself in a damp tangle of sheets.

The man next to her stirs. "Shhh," he murmurs in effort to sooth her. Strong arms reach out for her, pulling her into his chest. His hand tangles in her hair as he kisses away her tears. "The nightmare again?" he asks softly as he rubs gentle circles over her back beneath her t-shirt.

Even in the dark, her fingers float up to the newest scar, still a puckered pink mark, that mars his sculpted chest. Sometimes she still can't believe he's still here - or that it took the fear of losing him forever to make her finally confront her feelings. She nods and remains still listening to the rhythmic thundering of his heart. That wide-open, lion heart that has taught her about the blinding power of love.

He kisses her forehead tenderly. "I'm here, Baby. And I'm not going anywhere."

She reaches out to cup his cheek. It's rough like sandpaper, but warm like the rest of him. "I love you," she says.

Her voice is so small that he almost misses the sentiment. She doesn't say it often because she just isn't capable of that level of emotion. But he knows she feels it. She doesn't have to say the words for him to know that she is every bit as much in love with him as he is with her.

She's shown him. She told the Maluccian government to go jump the second she'd learned he'd been shot. She'd flown to Germany and demanded -_ pleaded_ - to be allowed in. She'd chastised the doctors for not reading his file and knowing about his aversion to anesthesia. More importantly, she'd sat with him round the clock.

She'd been holding his hand when he came around. The first thing he'd seen were her tear-filled blue eyes. He was weakly trying to say her name - to reassure her that he remembered her, knew who she was - when her lips brushed over his.

"I love you, too, Bones," he whispers in the dark of their bedroom as he pulls her firmly against his side and wraps his arm around her. With a smile, and before sleep reclaims them, he adds to himself, _And I'll love you every day for the rest of my life..._


	13. Chasing Bones

**A/N - This one is a little angsty, which kind of fits my mood of late. I think Brennan running scared in this situation would be in character, surpassed only by Booth's willingness and determination to track her down.**

**Emily, you may not believe this but I've had this piece written for a while (before I started betaing for you actually). Now I feel like I'm ripping off Frosted Windows. Get out of my head. *wink* Or should I say great minds in the same gutter?**

**For those of you who as Brennan would say "don't know what that means" go read EmmyMayyy's work (you can link from my profile) and see for yourself.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

Chasing Bones

Seeley Booth storms into the Jeffersonian and walks straight into Angela Hodgins' office. "Where is she?"

Angela tries to play it cool. "Well hello to you, too, G-Man."

Booth paces. "Don't toy with me, Angela."

Hearing the commotion, Hodgins and Cam walk in. "Seeley, I'm going to kindly ask that you don't shoot any of my employees."

"Don't call me Seeley, Camille," he growls through clenched teeth. "One of you tell me where in the hell my wife is. Now."

She approaches him calmly and places a hand on his arm, suddenly feeling unstable in her designer shoes. "You need to calm down or I'll get security to escort you out."

Booth pushes his suit jacket back and putting his hands on his hips blows out a shaky breath. "Please, tell me where she is."

Cam takes Booth's arm and leads him to her office. "Have a seat," she directs.

"I'd rather..." he begins only to be cut off.

"It wasn't a question. Sit." She tells sternly as she walks around to the other side of her desk. She folds her hands and takes a deep breath. "Angela is Brennan's best friend. I, on the other hand, am your friend."

"Cam," he starts.

She holds up her hand. "I don't know the full story, nor do I want to. This is between you and Dr. Brennan." She sighs and walks back to his side of the desk. Perching in front of him, she delivers what little information she does have. "Until you stormed in here, I assumed you knew she had gone. She took an unspecified leave of absence. She was asked to help with a dig."

His eyes fill with sadness and betrayal. "I figured that much. I just don't know where or why."

* * *

Hodgins rubs his wife's shoulders and places a tender kiss on her temple. "He doesn't know, does he?"

Angela blots her eyes with a tissue. "You mean why she left?" she asks. "Of course not. I told her not to do this. You know him, Jack. You know he'd be devastated, but that he'd agree that it wasn't her fault."

"Why didn't she tell him?"

"Who knows when it comes to Brennan," she says, throwing her hands into the air. "I guess she figured he'd be disappointed and that he would somehow love her less because she lost his child."

"Booth, man," Hodgins begins the second he realizes that the FBI agent was standing in the door.

"What do you mean she lost my child?" he asks softly. "Bones was pregnant?"

Angela sobs and moves to wrap her arms around the agent. "Booth, I..." she starts.

He stands perfectly still, not moving to embrace the woman trying to offer him comfort. _Bones. Pregnant._ "Why...?" he has to sit down. The room is spinning. "Why didn't she tell me?" he asks so quietly that she would have missed it had her ear not been so close to his lips.

Hodgins moves around them and closes the door. With Angela's help, he guides Booth to a chair. "We didn't mean for you to find out like this. We had hoped she would come to her senses."

Angela paces. "I wanted to call you."

"You were with her when...?" He's reeling. "How could you not...?"

Tears stream freely down the artist's face. "You were at the hockey game with Parker. She wasn't feeling well and she called me. When I got there, she was cramping and bleeding..."

"You should have called me!" he fumes, tears peppering his own cheeks.

"I wanted to. God, did I want to," she says as she kneels next to his chair. "At that point, she didn't even know she was pregnant. The doctor said there was nothing that could have been done, that..."

Booth lowers his head into his hands. "How could she have thought this would change anything? How could she have thought for even a moment that I would love her any less?"

Angela puts a comforting hand on his arm. "I don't know, Booth. All I can tell you is that I begged her to tell you. I begged her not to run out on you."

Hodgins pulls out his cell phone and sends a text. "Dude, I need to talk to Angie here for just a minute. Try to relax." He pulls Angela into the hall. "We've watched them fumble enough. She needs him. I've got them prepping the jet," he hands her the phone. "All you have to do is give them the destination. You aren't telling him, so you aren't breaking any promises you made to her."

Angela's eyes light up for the first time since Brennan left. She types in the location and hits send. "He can get the dig information from her computer. He's always known the passwords."

Hodgins looks around briefly before pecking her on the lips. "God, I love you. We've only been married for a couple years and I've already got you thinking like a conspiracy theorist."

**A/N - Anybody got any ideas? I'd love to hear from you!**


	14. The Surprise in the Homecoming

**A/N - I tried to get back to each of you who reviewed the last one, but I have a feeling that in all the craziness of last week I may have missed a couple of you so - THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU. Each review I received helped brighten my day and lessen all the stress. If I didn't thank you personally, you have my sincerest apologies.**

**Hopefully now that the drama of my sister's wedding is behind me I'll be able to get back on track with my updates. Here's a little drabble to get me back into posting. Sorry I don't have anything longer ready to go yet. Enjoy!**

The Surprise in the Homecoming

It's been a while since the last time he saw her. He can still remember the moment they watched each other walk away. He's thought about that day and about their history just about every day ever since. He had been elated when she called and asked him to have lunch with her.

He walks into her office and can't help but admire the delicate curve of her side as it flares to her hip. Lush auburn hair falls softly over her shoulders as she stands on tip-toe looking into a file drawer. He clears his throat.

She turns to him and smiles. Placing her file on the desk, she walks over and wraps her arms around him. "Welcome back," she says softly as she looks into his brown eyes.

"It's good to be here. I've really missed you," he tells her. He doesn't want to let her go - not yet - so he just stands there with his arms slung loosely around her slim waist. "How've you been?"

Reaching up, she tucks a stray hair behind her left ear. And that's when he sees it: the glittering rock on her ring finger. He searches her eyes as his world crashes down around him. He had thought he still had a chance, that if he waited long enough she'd come around. He isn't really sure what to think now. He forces a smile. _She deserves to be happy._ "So, who's the lucky guy?"

Angela had told her this was going to be tough. _How exactly did one tell a man she used to care about that she was engaged to someone else - someone he knows?_ She takes a deep breath and her eyes flutter closed. She hears his footsteps in the hallway and gets her answer - _when you're really lucky, you don't have to._

"Baby, is he here yet? I'm..." He chuckles when he sees the other man's face. "Okay, Sully, you can unhand my fiancee now."

"You lucky bastard." Sully replies, but can't help but laugh along with them as Brennan walks into Booth's waiting arms and gives him a quick kiss. "Good to see you two finally came to your senses."


	15. 4:47

**A/N - This one is for SmilingSarahJean who engaged me in spirited discussions about the clock that appeared in the Season 4 and 5 finales. She provided me with a much needed distraction last week and helped to flip my creative switch back into the ON position.**

**This was different for me - no dialogue at all. I hope you'll let me know what you think of my experimenting.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it or profit from it.**

4:47

The first time it happens is shortly after he comes out of the coma. He's been home for a few days. He's trying to get his life back. The messed up part is he's not sure what's real anymore. Everything he thought was true has fallen apart. Everyone keeps telling him things he's sure he should just _know_.

He has the dream _again_. The one where they're married and own the night club. She's come in from a late night and slips between the sheets. Her body is warm and soft as her skin slides over his. Her kiss is intoxicating.

The feel of her pressing against him is so vivid that he's in complete shock when he wakes up alone. But this isn't _their_ apartment. It's _his _apartment and she isn't his wife. She isn't his anything. He rolls over and stares at the soft green glow of the digital clock. 4:47 am.

He gets up. He hasn't re-certified yet. And his partner - it still feels weird that all she is to him is his _partner_ - is in Guatemala. There will be no case today. But there's no point in going back to bed with a ghost...

* * *

During the Gravedigger trial, there's a whole other level to the dream. He's married to his partner - only she isn't _just_ his partner, she's his _everything_ - and like in the coma dream, they're expecting their first child.

Seeing Brennan's usually flat abdomen swollen and heavy with his child steals his breath. But then he sees it. Sees her. The redhead of Heather Taffett standing at the edge of a grave laughing as she shovels dirt over a glass coffin. Shovels dirt over his Bones and their unborn child.

He awakens gasping for air even though it isn't himself he sees being buried. He screams out in the darkness and reaches out for her. Only she isn't there. Collecting himself and wiping the tears from his eyes, he glances at the clock on the nightstand. The numbers flash brightly. 4:47 am. At some point during the night, the power must have gone out.

He reaches for his cellphone. It's 5:21. Might as well get up and make a coffee run. Just because she isn't his, just because she doesn't share his bed, doesn't mean he can't bring her a white mocha and check up on her.

* * *

By the hoarder case, he's having a hard time sleeping. Sure, Taffett is in prison, but he and Bones have fallen apart. He's broken and not looking forward to spending the next year without her.

A knock at the door wakes him. He didn't dream of her tonight, but he knows he's gotten precious little rest. He looks at the clock. 4:47 am. He groans and rolls out of bed.

Pulling on a worn flannel robe, he answers the door. It's her. The rivers of tears on her face tell him she's been crying. And his broken heart beats for her all over again as he holds her in the silence.

There are no words for this moment. They don't speak or kiss or touch each other beyond their simple embrace. They are merely together without truly _being_ together. The gravity of their choices is pulling them apart and flinging the center out and away.

* * *

He smiles as he feels her arm curl around his waist and her cheek nuzzle into his shoulder as she cuddles closer. Heavy eyelids flutter open and he squints at the clock 4:47 am. They have a few more hours left.

It's good because they were up late last night making love. It hadn't been _that _long since they had been together but even after a short time apart they were both insatiable.

He rolls to face her and wakes her with a gentle kiss. She melts into him and it starts all over again. _So what if her hair is blonde and not auburn. _

But he knows it's wrong. Knows it's ephemeral. That it can't possibly last. She's not the woman that haunts his dreams. She's only filling a void. And he knows as soon as she realizes it, she'll be gone. She'll be gone and he'll be right back to where he was a year ago - clinging to thoughts of another woman. A woman who thinks she's incapable of loving him back.

**A/N - ****As a housekeeping matter - there _will_ be a follow up to 13. It's written, but needs to be revamped before it's posted. Soon though. I promise.**

******Bonus Points if you can guess the song that provided additional inspiration and spurred me along...**  



	16. Interlude  Too Late

**A/N - I have no earthly idea where this came from but I've decided blame jsq for inspiring me - yet again - to try something new.**

Interlude - Too Late

You, Temperance Brennan, are in love. You love him. And you've realized this isn't a new thing. No. It's been there for quite some time. When you think about it, the evidence is incredibly plain.

Being in love is a new experience for you. Until recently, you didn't believe in the concept. You thought love was transient, ephemeral. It was a mere chemical imbalance in the brain brought on by increased endorphins. And the idea that it could possibly last 30 or 40 or 50 years as he claimed? Impossible. No way. Not a chance. Why risk your partnership? Your friendship?

And so you left. You moved on before you had to watch him move on. You put your career first. You went chasing after the so-called discovery of a lifetime. You flung yourself out of the center and away from your partner, your best friend, the man you'd seen almost every day for the last five years.

He's never hurt you. Not even when you hurt him. And you _have_ hurt him. Deeply. So deeply that even someone without his open heart - someone like you - could see it. He's not like your family. He didn't abandon you. Not even when you rejected him and asked if you could still work together.

_You_ left _him._ _You_ let _him_ go. And without him, your world is empty. There's no one to remind you to eat or that you need to rest. There's no one to explain pop culture references or make you smile.

Your days in the Maluccian jungle were spent in the company of other squints. Your scientific peers, your equals. Well _close_ to it because no one is your equal. Kindred spirits. People who should be your soul-mates.

Only they aren't. Because your soul-mate knows more about hockey than he does about science. His eyes twinkle when he looks at you. Or they used to. You know? Before you wrecked things that night outside the Hoover.

One day, Daisy mentioned Booth in passing. Under the stars that evening, you found yourself thinking about him. _Really _thinking about him. And that's when it hit you. That's when, as Booth would say, the light bulb switched on.

You come back ready to tell him you've changed. That _you_ really want to give it a shot. But before you can get the words out he drops the bomb on you: he's with Hannah now.

So you do what he would do for you: you let him be happy. You swallow your feelings. And with a smile try to pretend that seeing him with her every day - potentially every day for the next 30 or 40 or 50 years - isn't killing you inside.


	17. Finding the Truth

**A/N - Here's the follow-up to **_**Chasing Bones**_** that so many of you asked for. It took a bit because after reading SouthunLady's review realized that the concept was not terribly well thought out. I'm still not thrilled with the outcome...but I'm not quite sure how to fix it given that I've been trying to keep these short.**

**Annie - Thanks for keeping me honest. You'll have to kick my butt if you still don't think it's right. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

Finding the Truth

Almost 24 hours later he knocks on the door to her hotel room. "Just a minute," he hears her call out. _Who in the hell is she expecting?_

She opens the door wrapped in a terry cloth robe. "Booth," she says quietly, her eyes dropping to her bare feet.

He pushes past her and flops down on the couch. "Where should we start, Bones?" he asks, his voice tired and laced with pain. "With the fact that I've told you to be more careful about opening the door or the fact that I had to fly halfway around the world to track down my wife?"

"Booth, I..." he notices then how red her eyes are. "This is a four star hotel..."

"Which doesn't make it any safer." He forces his hands together in front of his face in effort to center himself. They've both been through enough. He hasn't come here to fight. He's come to reclaim the woman he loves and restore her faith in their relationship. "Bones," he says, his voice quivering. "Come sit."

She looks at her husband. His eyes are tired. "Booth, perhaps you should..."

"If you're going to tell me to sleep, you know that's not how I operate." He stands, his hands going to his hips.

She bites her lip and crosses her arms over her chest. "How did you find me? I told Angela not..."

Booth lets out a bitter chuckle. "You married an FBI agent, Bones. Did you really think I'd need your squints to tell me how to find you?" _What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her friendships...and it wasn't like Angela _told_ him anything._

She just stares. She hadn't considered that. She thought that he would just give up, frustrated with her lack of warmth and social skills, and file for divorce.

He takes a step closer to her. "I know, Bones," he says quietly. "I know why you left." Before she can say anything, he continues. "Before you say anything, Angela didn't tell me. I overheard her talking to Hodgins."

Brennan turns away from him, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.

He moves behind her and wraps her in his embrace. "Baby, are you alright? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you let me help you through this?"

She leans back against his chest, absorbing his strength and his warmth. "I...I was scared you'd leave me."

"This is my loss, too. I wish you could have shared it with me."

"I just..." she begins, the sobs overtaking her. "I didn't..."

"Sh..." he soothes her before steering her to the couch. He brings her a glass of water and sits next to her.

"I didn't know I was pregnant until I had already miscarried." Her voice is unsteady. She finds herself blurting it out, laying herself open to him. Telling him what she should have said sooner. "It was just over a month ago. You and Parker were in Philadelphia for the weekend..."

He remembers that weekend all too well. It had been a fight to make it happen. Rebecca had tried to keep him from taking Parker even though he hadn't seen his kid in a month for all the trips and things she'd had planned. "You wanted to let me be with my son."

"And then when you got back and we were in the park..."

He rubs his jaw. There had been a couple pushing a stroller, the man piggybacking a boy a few years younger than Parker. He'd made a comment about having a family of their own. In her insecurity she had forgotten that there was more than one kind of family.

"I've wanted to give you a child for quite some time, Booth. I don't know why..." she snatches a tissue from the box of kleenex on the coffee table in front of them and blows her nose.

He tilts her chin up and his eyes search hers. "I want nothing more than to have a baby with you, Bones. This wasn't your fault," he takes her hand. "I know we don't have the same beliefs, so I'll spare you the part about higher powers and master plans. Let's go with the explanation that your pretty little scientific head should be able to handle: this was your body's way of letting you know it wasn't the right time."

She leans against him and he holds her. He takes her left hand in his and draws it up in front of her face so she can see their rings. "You see this? We're partners in every sense of the word, Bones." He kisses her temple. They cry together for their lost child before he carries her over to the bed.

"Promise me something?" he asks seriously as she curls against his side in the oversized bed.

"Hmm?" she replies.

"Promise me you won't just run off the next time something happens. If you need space, I'll try to respect that, but I need to know that you'll talk to me if your scared or upset."

She leans up and kisses him. "I promise, Booth. I'm sorry...so sorry..."

He silences her with a kiss. "Just rest, Bones, just rest."


	18. The Fear in the FBI Agent

The Fear in the FBI Agent

She wades into the pool of water that's filling the basement of the old house. She holds her flashlight chest high and scans around the room.

"Leather shoes, Bones," he hisses at her when he's forced to stop. _He doesn't like sending her in alone._ "Brand new leather shoes. At least you have on those damn boots of yours." He leans out from his position on the steps and attempts to shine his own light in her direction. "You see anything?"

"Where were the remains supposed to be located?" she says in an annoyed tone.

"Gee, Bones, it's not like they gave me a map..."

The side of her mouth turns up and she shakes her head. She can hear him pacing and knows that he doesn't like that he can't see her from his position on the steps.

"Let's just wait for the team and we'll..." his reassuring tone falters. The water has moved up a step. "Ah, Bones?"

"Yeah, Booth?" she calls back to him. He can hear the distracted tone her voice gets when she's intently focused on something.

"We need to be getting out of here."

"We haven't found the remains yet," she whines.

"Not happening, Bones," he bites out. "Water level is rising."

"Five more minutes," she answers.

His cell phone begins to ring. He answers it, but with limited signal he can't understand what the person on the other end is saying. "Bones? I gotta take this call. When I come back, we're outta here."

She rolls her eyes and continues her search, content that she will be able to focus her attention now that he isn't distracting her.

* * *

"Okay, Charlie. Listen, just call me when you have something, okay? - Yeah. Look, I gotta get back in there with Bones. - Uh-huh, yeah, hanging up now, Charlie," he snaps the clamshell closed and hurries back to the basement.

The water has risen noticeably since he left. _It must be up to her waist by now_, he thinks to himself. "Bones? Let's go," he calls out to her. He stays halfway up the stairs where it's dry. "Come on. Chop chop. Body's going to have to wait until we can get this pumped out."

"Booth?" she calls back softly.

Immediately he can tell there's something wrong. There's no protest this time. The anthropologist's voice sounds almost tiny. "Yeah, Bones?" he questions trying to remain unruffled.

There's a pause. _He isn't going to like what she's about to tell him. _"I'm stuck," she says quietly.

He swears under his breath and immediately reaches down to pull off his shoes. "Just stay calm." He yanks off his suit jacket and leaves both at the top of the stairs. The chill of the water is a shock to his system. Getting to the bottom he half wades, half swims over to her.

"My foot..." she begins her voice cracking. Her hair is wet and what little of her clothing is above the water is soaked through to the skin.

He can see the panic registering in her eyes and it slices his heart to ribbons. She's one of the strongest people he knows and he hates seeing her scared. "I'm going to get you out of here," he tells her.

He dips below the water's surface. The chill prickles over him as he dives to her feet. He yanks at the laces on her boots only to find them already undone. He emerges and looks at her. "Wrap your arms around my neck," he instructs.

She does and he attempts to pull her free. He feels her grimace in pain without seeing the look on her face.

"Booth," she says, her tone is clipped and clinical. "There isn't much time. You need to get out of here. The water is rising and the temperature is..."

"No," he says gruffly as he grabs her hands. "I won't leave you."

She shivers and he notices her lips are almost as blue as her eyes. "You have to," she pleads. "Parker needs you."

"And I need you," he tells her. "I'll make sure the team is en route and that they call for medical but I'm not leaving."

She nods. It's pointless to argue with him - especially since she's running out of time. That's not how she wants him to remember her.

When he comes back, he can see that she's fading. He slips behind her and holds her above the surface. The water is almost to her shoulders now. He fights a shiver of his own as he cradles her. "Stay with me," he says to her.

"Booth," she says weakly between chattering teeth. She leans her head back against his shoulder. "I was..."

He nudges at her playfully when she doesn't continue. "You were what, Bones?" he teases.

He feels her sigh heavily against him. "I was wrong."

"You? No way," he says to her. "The great Temperance Brennan is never wrong."

She struggles in his arms. "I was wrong to push you away," she says deliriously.

"Bones," her name escapes in a warning tone. _This is starting to sound like a good-bye._

"I was scared, Booth," she continues.

"We'll talk about it when we're out of here," he tells her. "When we can sit on your couch and drink tequila."

This throws her off course. "You know what happens when we drink tequila," she says with a smirk.

He comes around to face her and she struggles to look up at him. "We get hung over?"

"I think I'm going to kiss you now," she says to him. She does. Her lips are cold as they move beneath his. Unlike the other three kisses they've shared this one is soft and bittersweet. It's _final_. "I love you," she murmurs.

_And now he's sure it's meant to be good-bye._

**To be continued...**


	19. The Friend at the Bar

**A/N - This little idea popped into my head and I just couldn't shake it. It's from the POV of a character we don't know all that well, but it just seemed like the right move to use him rather than making it some random bartender. Hope you don't mind the creative liberties.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

The Friend at the Bar

I've known Booth for years. We met in the service. When I opened my restaurant, he became one of my first regular customers. He and Parker are in here all the time. I even took the kid by the Jeffersonian the year they were stuck in lockdown for Christmas.

He's brought the lady doctor that he always said was "just his partner" here. They used to order take-out a couple times a week. Then they went away for a year. When they got back, he was with a younger woman - a blonde. He occasionally still comes in with the doctor, but it's never just the two of them anymore. Come to think of it I haven't seen her or her people - the squints I think he calls them - for a while now.

I can always tell what kind of a mood he's in by what he's drinking. When it's a good night he drinks beer - bottles, not drafts - and only ever two. When they've had a rough case, it's usually Jack and Coke. But when things are really bad, it's tequila - the top shelf kind.

The last time tequila was his poison of choice was a month or so before they left. He came in alone. The more he had to drink the more talkative he became. He started spouting on about "the one" and being "that guy" and how she'd crushed his heart. I knew he was talking about the doctor. It was no secret that he was in love with her.

A month ago he came in here with both women. The doctor appeared to be incredibly uncomfortable. She's always been a little awkward but this was different. For the first time I realized that she was every bit as in love with him as he was with her. She left early, probably couldn't take the sappy way he was looking at the reporter - hell, I could barely stomach it myself.

Tonight's another tequila night. He's alone. There's a velvet box on the bar in front of him and he's got that look in his eye. It's closing time. I quietly shoo folks out and flip the sign at the door. He's three sheets to the wind and I call her to come for him. He needs her whether or not he can admit it. I have this knack for knowing what people need. Sometimes they need more than food.

She slips in 10 minutes later and slides onto the stool next to him. "Can I see it?" she asks. He pushes the box over the hardwood in her direction. Both have sad eyes as she pops it open.

"I tried, Bones," he tells her. "I really tried. But she knew. She said she knew she wasn't the one. That it didn't matter how much she wanted to be."

She lets him ramble for a moment and snaps the box shut. Her fingers lace with his and tears slip over her cheeks. "I learned a lot about myself in Maluku," she tells him. "I learned that I want to give this - " she motions between the two of them " - _us _- a shot." She smiles weakly. "I know you aren't ready now, but I hope that some day you will be. And if you are, you'll ask me and I'll say yes. I'm going to wait for you the way you waited for me. For as long as it takes."

He doesn't answer or say anything. He slips off his stool and takes her hand. Shy smiles are exchanged and I feel almost like a chaperone. "Good night, Sid," he says to me. "Thanks."

I nod and watch as they walk out together. I go back to cleaning up and shutting things down. I pour myself a shot of tequila and down it in a gulp. It's been a long time coming, but hopefully those two are finally on the right track.


	20. Endings and Beginnings

**A/N - It's short and sweet. It's also not at all where you probably expected the follow-up to go, but it's where the story took me. If you **_**really**_** want the in-between bit ask nicely and I'll see what I can come up with.**

Endings and Beginnings

She crashed twice in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. He's not sure he's ever been so scared in his life. Losing her is unthinkable.

He sits beside the hospital bed wearing the scrubs the hospital lent him. He has hardly left her side in the last twelve hours. The doctors don't know when she'll wake up, but when she does he wants to be with her. He needs for her to know he kept his promise. He didn't leave her. He will never leave her.

That's what he told Hannah when she came by. That as hard as he tried to move on, he loved Bones. Would always love her. She decked him. He deserved it. In the end, she said she always figured maybe he did but she was willing to take the chance that he would someday look at her - talk about her - the way he did Temperance. He's not sure why but the way Brennan's name sounds as it falls from her lips grates on him.

She wakes up sixteen hours and thirty-three minutes after they brought her in. Blue eyes flutter open and she squeezes the hand that holds hers.

He smiles at her. She frowns. "What's wrong, Bones?"

She struggles to shake her head. "You shouldn't be here."

"Actually, I should. I haven't been around enough." He's very matter-of-fact in the admission and doesn't leave room for argument with his tone.

"But Hannah..." she says weakly.

He sighs. "Is gone."

"What? Why?" she digs into the recesses of her memory trying to conjure up what has happened.

Booth rubs the back of his neck. "When we were in the basement, you said..."

_Oh. That._ "I was delirious, Booth. It was never..."

Booth raises his eyebrows. He knows Brennan wouldn't lie to him. "Are you taking it back?"

"Well, no," she stammers. "It's not like that at all. I do love you. I just should've kept it to myself. Is Hannah mad?"

"I broke it off. It wasn't fair to her. Turns out my heart wasn't mine to give. It belongs to someone else - you." He silences her when she starts to speak. "Neither of us is ready now. We need to make adjustments. I need to process my relationship with Hannah."

"Booth..."

He gives her his charm smile and leans in to kiss her forehead. "One day soon I'm going to ask you for a date, Bones. And this time, when I do, you sure as hell better say yes."


	21. Coming Home

**A/N - This one's for Emily. You asked for it - several times - and I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to get it here. Thanks for helping bring me out of my little funk.**

**A follow-up to **_**The Hurt in the Fight**_**...**

Coming Home

He gets off of the plane and makes his way to baggage claim. Flipping his phone open, he looks at her text one more time.

_Nothing feels right when I'm not with you. I'm sorry. I love you. Please come home._

With a small smile, he slips the phone back into the pocket of his well-worn blue jeans and collects his military-style duffel from the luggage carousel. Things have been far from feeling right for the last week.

That's the funny thing about relationships. When you see a person day in and day out, you get used to it. You crave it. You feel a loss when you aren't together. When you don't see that person. Talk to them.

He had always missed her when they were apart but for things had only gotten worse since they _finally_ started dating. They were spending less and less time apart. The only nights they didn't spend together were the nights he had Parker. He was finding it harder and harder to sleep without her next to him. That's what started this whole mess.

He starts the SUV and drives to her condo on auto-pilot. Looking at his watch and up at her darkened bedroom window he curses silently and debates waiting until morning to talk to her. Deciding it best to put them both out of their mutual misery, he makes his way to the door. and uses his key to get in.

He sees the broken glass on the floor along with a high heeled shoe and immediately goes on alert. Pulling his gun, he closes the door silently behind himself and surveils the situation: take-out container sitting haphazardly on the edge of the coffee table by a half empty glass of wine, paper strewn all over, throw from the back of the sofa hanging off the arm and trailing over the floor and a trail of clothes leading toward the bedroom.

He slinks down the hallway and pushes the door open. Shaking his head, he stares at the anthropologist laying tangled in the bed linens. Her bare leg stretches out over the blanket, the light from the parking lot dancing over her calf and thigh right up to where it disappeared beneath...

_So, that was where it went._ His lips curl upwards as he holsters his gun and admires the woman wearing nothing more than his old t-shirt. "Oh, Bones," he says softly with a shake of his head.

Turning, he makes his way back to the living room and makes quick work of straightening up. Take-out in the trash, glass in the sink, blanket in it's proper place, paperwork stacked neatly on the table. He grabs the broom and cleans up the broken mirror before picking up the stray shoe and clothing.

Back in the bedroom, he deposits the items he picked up along the way into a chair in the corner. He stealthily slips his gun into the drawer and silently strips off his clothing.

"Booth?" she whispers groggily in the darkness.

He slips beneath the covers and curls around her. "Yeah, Baby?"

"I'm sorry," it comes out in almost a sob as she rolls to face him.

He brushes his lips over her temple and breathes her in as he pulls her close. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed," he answers as he feels her eyelashes fluttering against his bare chest along with fresh tears.

"You were right though," she says. "I think we should."

He's taken aback. He didn't expect this. He feels his heart skip a beat. "Really?" he asks quietly.

She snuggles closer to him and his hand slides beneath the edge of the shirt to rest in his spot on her back. "Mmm hmm," she replies sleepily. "I hate waking up alone..."

**A/N - I debated putting a flashback of the fight in Booth's side of this but took it out at the last minute. Let me know if that's something you'd like to see.**

**Until next time...which hopefully won't be far away.**


	22. The Fight

**A/N - Here's the prequel to _The Hurt in the Fight and Coming Home. _I almost put this into the prior chapter as a flashback, but it didn't work the way I wanted it to.**

The Fight

She stands at the stove sautéing vegetables and humming softly to herself.

He had walks up behind her and places a row of kisses up the column of her neck.

She shivers and leans back against the warmth of his chest even as she continues to shuffle the vegetables in the pan. "Booth," she coos softly.

He nips at her ear, drawing her lobe between his lips and nuzzling at her hair.

"I'm going to burn dinner," she mumbles even as she raises a hand to the side of his face to hold him in position.

He smiles. He knows. He knows this is it. That _this_ is what he wants to do - how he wants to spend - every evening of the rest of his life with her. _Just like this._ And so he says it. He can't stop himself. "Move in with me."

She freezes. Her hand drops from cradling his cheek. Reaching forward, she flicks off the burner beneath the skillet and shifts the pan to the other side of the stove.

"It's not like we aren't spending every night together anyway," he tells her, trying desperately to justify. To give her evidence. _It's like the night outside the Hoover Building all over again. Only this is worse._

"Booth, I..." tears sparkle in the corners of her eyes like tiny diamonds.

He takes her hands. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Bones. I'm just saying we should make it official. End the shuffling around. I'm tired of stealing out of here in the morning to go home and shower."

"So, why don't you bring clothes then? I've suggested that previously and..." she takes a step back and comes in contact with the countertop. _Trapped._ _Like a caged animal._

"Okay," he says, raising his voice slightly. "What about Parker then? You never stay over on my weekends. He doesn't even know that we're..."

Brennan crosses her arms over her chest. "I thought that was what you wanted. That we agreed not to tell him until..."

"Dammit, Bones, quit twisting things around," he growls at her.

She flinches. "I think you should go," she says softly. "We'll talk about this tomo..."

"Oh, that's it," he says coolly. "Run away at the first sign of trouble."

"I don't want to do this," she says tearfully. "Not tonight. Not after the case."

"You know what? If that's the way you want it," he grabs his suit jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs, upsetting the object in his hast. "Fine!" he screams in frustration. Without another word he leaves, slamming the door in his wake.


	23. Daddy's Little Girl

**A/N - It's imperfect and was written very quickly, but the idea just wouldn't leave me alone. I really like the idea of Booth as an overprotective Dad to a daughter. I hope you will, too.**

**In some ways, this could be taken as a follow-up to _The Sum in the Parts of a Family._**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Bones.**

Daddy's Little Girl

Seeley Booth sits on the sofa in the living room. When he hears his oldest daughter coming down the stairs, he pulls his feet off of the coffee table and grabs his glock. Whistling, he spins the barrel opening the chamber just as she is walking into the room.

"Seriously, Daddy?" she questions. Her eyebrows knit together just like her mother's.

He makes eye contact with her and his chin drops open. "You are not going out of the house dressed like _that_," he says sternly. He used to be a teenage boy. He knows how they think. _No one is thinking like that about his little girl._

She rolls her eyes. "I'm sixteen, Daddy," she sighs. Crossing her arms over her chest she taps her foot. "Put the gun away. You about gave Stanley a coronary the last time..."

_God, she sounds just like her mother. _He's not sure when she got so grown up. "Sixteen is not eighteen. You aren't wearing that."

"Mom!" she hollers into the hallway.

"Is that it?" Brennan asks as she gives Christine a once over. "It looks even better than it did..."

"Not helping, Bones," Booth growls between gritted teeth. He rubs at his greying temple and places the gun on the table.

Brennan shakes her head. He now has two of them glaring at him. _Great._

"It's only a dress, Booth," his wife insists.

"Uh-huh," he agrees. "And if it was any shorter..."

Brennan sits next to him and whispers something into his ear. He turns bright red. "Chrissy," he says sheepishly, "You tell that Hodgins boy that I will personally kick his ass if I find out his hands drifted north or south of the equator."

Christine watches as her mother picks up the gun and pulls her father to his feet. She has to stifle a giggle as Brennan hands the weapon to Booth and points him toward the stairs. Once Booth is out of earshot she asks, "What did you say to him?"

Her mother just smiles. "I told him that the original dress you picked out was far more revealing and reminded him that we needed to trust you to handle yourself."

"Why do I get the feeling that's not all you said?"

_In this way, Christine was just like her father. Always investigating and following up._ "Because it wasn't, but what's between your father and I is ours," she says with a wink. "Now, have fun and make sure you're..."

"Back by midnight," Christine confirms. Kissing Brennan on the cheek, she murmurs a soft "Thanks, Mom" before heading toward the door.

Brennan watches until Stanley Hodgins hand wraps around Christine's and makes her way up to the bedroom pausing only to grab her reading glasses. As she gets to the door, she smiles and turns the knob. "Do you know what the penalty for an overdue book is, Mr. Booth?"


	24. A Little Distraction

**A/N - I've been wanting to try this for a while. Pleased that I got it out of my system but not so sure I'll do it again. Major points to all of you authors who have pulled this kind of piece off. I'm a detail person and kept having to stop myself from putting in background details...*grrr***

**Disclaimer - I don't own Bones.**

A Little Distraction

"Stop it, Booth. You're distracting me."

"Can't we take a break? We've been at this for hours."

"If we stop now we'll be working until midnight."

"I know _what_ I'd like to be _doing_ at midnight."

"Mmm mmm, Booth..."

"Yeah, Bones?"

"That feels so..."

"Told you we should take a break."

"Hmm. That..."

"You like that do you?"

"You know I do. Mmm, yes...right there..."

"We should have just let Angela plan it."

"And then I'd be wearing taffeta and ribbons."

"We could have just - _oof - "_

"Mmm. - Flown to Vegas?"

"Mmm. - Exactly. - Mmm."

"But you won't have been happy with that..."

"Baby, I'm happy just being with you."

"Mmm. - Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Don't call me baby."


	25. Daddy's Little Girl  Part II

**A/N - For Gemlily5. Thanks telling me what you really thought of the last one and encouraging me to stick with all the little details. This may not be exactly what you had in mind but I laughed out loud while writing it.**

Daddy's Little Girl - Part II

He rolls his neck to release the pressure and hears the tell-tale little _pop_. The one that Bones has told him is the release of gas. _Just great. The older he got, his whole body was farting._

With a sigh, he unlocks the door to his apartment. It's late. He's exhausted. He finds that he's relieved Hannah is no longer around. It'll be nice and quiet and..._what the?_

"Hello, Booth."

"Max," the agent breathes. "Breaking and entering is liable to get you shot." Ignoring his partners father he makes his way to the kitchen and pulls a bottle of scotch from the top shelf. "I'd offer you a drink, but you aren't staying."

Max approaches Booth and takes the glass from his hand. "You've had enough," he says as he sloshes it into the sink.

"Hey!" the younger man whines.

Max grits his teeth. "If you were anyone else, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd be dead."

"That's comforting," Booth snorts.

Max continues. "But Tempe loves you. The way you've been behaving right now I'd really like to kick your ass but I've spent too much time trying to get back into my daughter's good graces."

He's feeling every ounce of the liquid courage he drowned himself in and stands up straight. He looks down his nose and into Max's piercing eyes. "I'd like to see you try old man."

"Don't test me," the older man challenges. "We'll both be in the doghouse when one of us gets hurt."

_Max Keenan the voice of reason? _Stranger things had happened. "She ruined everything, Max."

"No, Booth," he says with a shake of his head. "_You_ ruined everything. You came home with someone else."

"I didn't ask Hannah to come to DC," he retorts.

"No, but you did encourage her to stay." Max steers Booth to the living room and sits him on the couch. "Tempe's scared Booth. And that's my fault."

"Max..." his eyes are sympathetic.

"I left her when she was a kid and she's never gotten over it. She probably never will." Sitting on the edge of the coffee table, Max looks at his daughter's partner. "You left her, too."

"I went to Afghanistan _after _she agreed to go to Maluku," Booth fumes. "_She _left _me._"

Max shakes his head. "I'm not talking about your mutual field-trips. I'm talking about Hannah. You aren't the man you used to be. You aren't the man I once thought was worthy of my daughter. You have a lot of making it up to her to do. And it's going to start the minute you sober up. You'll fix this, Booth, or I swear to God they'll never find your body."


	26. The Dedication Page

**A/N - For all my girls who need a little romance. It's short. It's sweet. And it's a much needed pick-me-up...**

**Disclaimer - I don't own _Bones_.**

The Dedication Page

Her latest book was just delivered by courier. He tries not to touch the shiny hardback that rests on the corner of his desk but he can't resist. He reaches for it and opens it to his favorite page. The one he always checks first. The dedication.

_For Special Agent Seeley Booth, my long time partner and best friend -_

_You have taught me a lot over the years about faith and trust, but especially about love. Though I have often denied it vehemently, you are the real Agent Andy Lister. Thank you for your courage, your strength and your faith. But most of all thank you, Booth, for being you._

He smiles and exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. He moves to close the book and replace it on the desk when the page preceding the dedication - the page that's supposed to be blank - flutters over his thumb.

There, written in Brennan's unmistakable hand, he reads:

_Booth - We've been through a great deal this year. It's my turn to gamble. Dinner tonight at 7? You know the spot._

_Your "Bones"_

He looks at his watch. 6:48. He grabs his coat and hits the light as he walks out the door. No way can he make it in 12 minutes.

But he's sure as hell going to try.

**To be continued...**


	27. Is This a Date?

**A/N - At home sick today. Needed some fluff to cheer me up, so...h****ere's the follow-up to **_**The Dedication Page**_**. **

**Many thanks to jenlovesbones for helping me with answers to a few trivia questions. You rock!**

**Disclaimer - Still isn't mine.**

Is This a Date?

He slams his hand against the steering wheel in frustration. It was only supposed to take eight minutes according to GPS. Of course, he hadn't counted on being accosted by Sweets and Charlie in the hallway with questions about an on-going case he was supervising.

He was late. And stuck in DC traffic. He could do nothing more than hope she'd still be there when he arrived. A bundle half wilted daisies from a street vendor laying in the passenger seat would make for a poor apology. _Nice going, Seeley._

_Screw it._ He slips the SUV into the closest approximation of a parking space he can get and puts it in park. _Government plates should keep it from getting towed, right?_

Grabbing his miserable flowers, he races toward the monument at the end of the reflecting pool. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees her sitting on the steps. He smiles. The strain of the day melts away as he draws closer.

When she sees him, she stands. A light breeze causes her light-weight spring skirt to sway around her calves in a slow ripple. The scent of cherry blossoms hits and the edge of her mouth tilts up as he hands her the daisies.

He's next to her now, the roughened pad of his thumb sliding over her cheek. "It took forever to get here."

She smiles softly as her hands move to rest on his hips. "I know what you mean."

When his lips brush hers it's not in the heat of some moment. It's not because of blackmail or out of desperation. It's a culmination of years of mutual respect and desire. It's pure and without the sting of rejection or regret.

His stomach growls and as they pull apart they both laugh.

She starts to sink onto the cool stone steps but he grabs her hand. Slipping off his suit coat he lays it down for her to sit on. With a slight shake of her head she accepts his gesture and pulls him down to sit beside her.

For a few minutes they sit in silence eating noodles from their take-out boxes and enjoying the spring air. Finishing chewing her current bite, Brennan looks at him. "Is this a date, Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones," he says softly with a crooked smile. "I think it is."

Leaning her head down, she rests it against his shoulder with a sigh as she twines her fingers with his. "A good one?"

He kisses her temple. Murmuring against her hair he whispers something that makes her quiver. "The best."


	28. The Morning After

**A/N - Being sick isn't keeping me from writing. I've been busy. Yep. Still feeling fluffy. Especially since etakkate told me these little shots are her happy pills...*grins***

**A big thank-you to SaMaNdPhiL4eVeR, freelancer73, iheartbooth, horseninja, rmcbuckeye and jenlovesbones (along with anyone I've missed!) who've offered up well wishes. Just reading your reviews lifts my spirits.**

**Disclaimer - Nope. Still don't own it.**

The Morning After

He stretches and discovers he's in bed alone. Yawning and opening his eyes, he wonders how she managed to slip out of bed without waking him. Years of training have made him a light sleeper, normally the slightest noise or movement would have him on alert.

His feet hitting the hardwood, he scans the room until he finds his boxers. Slipping them on he walked into the kitchen. He stops in the doorway and watches her for a moment.

She stands at the sink with her back to him. Her chestnut hair is tied back in a messy ponytail. She hums _Hot Blooded _softly as she does the dishes. Her feet are bare and she wears one of his t-shirts. _This was a sight he could definitely get used to_.

Walking up behind her, he slides his arms around her waist. "Good morning," he manages, his voice husky with sleep as he kisses her neck.

She leans back against his chest and feels the heat of his body warm her through the worn cotton of the shirt. "You thought I left," she says softly.

He stiffens but doesn't answer. He holds his breath unsure of what to say.

She turns to him and sees the pain in his eyes before he quickly looks away. She wipes her hands on a dish towel and lays it on the counter. "It's okay to admit it, Booth."

He doesn't look at her. He can't. "Bones, I..."

She touches his face. "It's okay, Booth. I deserve it. I've spent too much time running away. I have a few things I still need to learn."

His eyes meet hers. They search for something deep within. He tries desperately to read her.

She smiles. "Lucky for you," she says as she softly teases his lips with her own. "I have a _very_ steep learning curve."

He settles his mouth firmly over hers, kissing her deeply. "And lucky for you, I'm a very patient man..."

"Take me back to bed, Booth."

He smirks at her. Knowing it will get him into trouble later, he pulls her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and hurries down the hall.

They both laugh as they hit the sheets.

Shaking her head, she pulls him close for another kiss. Just before her lips brush his she whispers, "You're such an alpha male..."


	29. FBEye Candy

**A/N - So I don't know where this came from...but I like it. A LOT.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it...if I did there would be serious risk of things like this happening.**

FB-Eye Candy

Angela walks into Brennan's office with a smirk. "How do you do it, Sweetie?" she asks.

Brennan barely looks up from her computer screen in acknowledgement. "Do what, Ange?"

The artist raises an eyebrow. "Cut the crap, Bren. We all know you had to take Agent Studly's clothing as evidence _again_."

"My relationship with Booth is strictly professional. We're colleagues. Partners." The anthropologist avoids making eye contact with her friend.

"Sure," Angela retorts crossing her arms over her chest. "And Jack and I have never had sex in Egyptian Storage."

Tearing her eyes away from the screen, she gives Angela a warning look. "Ange, please..."

"The two of you are always walking around having eye sex with each other, you get his clothes off and you don't make a move? What's wrong with you?"

Brennan fidgets as she tries to formulate a response.

Angela scrutinizes her friends appearance. "You know that your blouse is buttoned incorrectly?" She takes a step closer. "And is your lipstick smeared?

Brennan looks down and sees that she has, indeed, misbuttoned her shirt. Her hand flies up to the edge of her mouth. Immediately, she flashes back to earlier in the day.

* * *

"Hey, Bones?" Booth says to her as she collects evidence from his clothing. "Can you hurry up? It's kinda chilly in here..."

She looks up from her position at his feet where she's attempting to remove his pants without compromising any of the evidence. Shaking her head, she goes back to her task.

The agent gulps when he realizes his partner is at eye level with his crotch. _Oh, Lord. _Under his breath he begins to mutter, "Saint Peter, Saint George, Saint Jude, Saint..."

"What was that, Booth?" she asks.

"Oh, um, nothing, Bones," he replies trying to smile at her.

"Could you sit on the edge of the gurney please?" she asks.

_Oh, yeah. Because he wasn't exposed enough already. Sitting down opened him up to the risk that the flap of his boxers would..._ "I mean, is that really necessary? Can't you just..."

She looks at him sternly, daring him to tell her no.

With another gulp, he eases himself back onto the table behind himself. The cool plane of the steel does nothing to temper the desire he feels building with every glance he takes at her. It causes him to twitch.

"Just one more second..." she tugs at his pants legs trying to pull them away and stumbles forward almost landing face down in his...

"Whoa!" he yelps as with lightning reflexes, he reaches out to steady her before she comes in intimate contact with his body.

Their eyes meet and her tongue slides out over her lips. She watches him watching her and leans in until her mouth comes in contact with his.

The kiss is electric. As his tongue melds to hers the tension in the room increases. His hands are at the front of her blouse quickly dispensing with the tiny buttons. Hot palms come to rest against bare skin.

"Dr. Brennan, are you..." Cam's voice breaks the silence. "Oh. My. God." she covers her eyes. "I'm just gonna..." She backs out of the room as quickly as her designer shoes will allow.

"Bones, I..." he looks at her. His eyes are dark.

Brennan struggles to button her shirt with gloved hands. _What just happened?_

"We need to talk about this..."

"Not now, Booth," she says quickly.

"Tonight?" he asks. His eyes are pleading.

"Tonight," she agrees as she hurries back to her office.

* * *

Brennan looks guilty as her friend's voice summons her back to the present.

"You didn't!" Angela squeals.

"I did not have sex with Booth," she confirms a little too loudly.

Angela giggles. "But he's so much more than eye candy now. What's it like?"


	30. Unanswered Prayers

**A/N - This one is short and sweet. If I can get my act together, I may have one more update to post later tonight.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own or profit from it.**

Unanswered Prayers

I consider myself to be a religious man. I go to church every Sunday (when I'm not working) and I go to confession when I need forgiveness. I pray when I need to which, at least for a while, seemed like it was all the time.

My girlfriend and I were at a party - the kind of event where I get stuck in a monkey suit watching her mingle - when I ran into my ex. I found myself gulping down the glass of scotch in my hand as she approached me with a man I hadn't met.

It shouldn't have had that effect on me, but for some reason it hit me the wrong way. Maybe it was because I was standing alone, suddenly feeling exposed. I thought about all the times I prayed for her - _about _her - and about our relationship.

She smiled at me. It was hard, you know? Because if I'm honest, I'd have to tell you that it was her smile that was one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. She could light up a room and she didn't even realize it. She was just that way.

She makes the introductions. "This is Peter," I hear her tell me. _Is she seeking my approval?_ "I've told him a lot about you and he said we just had to come over here."

And, at that moment, my date showed up. A few too many glasses of wine and she's feeling overly affectionate. She wraps her arm around my neck and gives me a quick kiss. I can't help but laugh and pull her closer.

"Bones, you remember Hannah. And this is Peter." Never in my life have I been so grateful for unanswered prayers as I am tonight. Seeing Hannah again, I know that I'm where I belong - with Bones. And I make mental note to thank God for not answering my prayer to get over her and find the ability to move on.


	31. Booth's Favorite Blonde

**A/N - Another quick little sound bite. Told you there might be two coming your way tonight...**

**I'm sending this extra one to RositaLG who made me smile with her comment about the last chapter...and jenlovesbones for being up to read it. I think if you give this one a chance, you'll like it even more than the last one. *wink* **

**Disclaimer - Not mine. But it'd make a great Christmas present...**

Booth's Favorite Blonde

They're late. He can't believe she wanted him to drive all the way home to get her. He did it, of course. After all, how could he say no to those big blue eyes?

As they were about to get in the car, she decided that she needed to pee and they had to go back. Which would have been fine if she hadn't gotten distracted by something she saw and have to stop to look at it. _God, sometimes he hated women._

He walks over to join the others at the picnic with his arms around her.

Charlie sees them together and laughs. "You sure your partner isn't going to be jealous, Booth?" he whispers behind his hand.

"Ha ha. Cute, Charlie, really cute," he mutters under his breath as they continue walking.

He sits at the picnic table with the squints and she squirms in his lap before settling and giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

Angela raises an eyebrow at them and Booth just smiles at her.

Booth looks around for his partner and waves when he sees her. Seeing Brennan, the puppy immediately jumps out of his lap and breaks for her owner.

Brennan scoops up the golden retriever and cuddles the dog to her chest. "Did she give you any trouble?" she asks Booth.

He leans in and kisses her tenderly. They both laugh as the puppy licks their chins, ever determined to be a part of the pack. "Nah," he answers softly. The look on Brennan's face - the look he remembers from watching her with Ripley - is enough to make the earlier events melt away. "We managed just fine, didn't we, Lola."

"Her name isn't Lola, Booth," Brennan scolds. "It's..."

"Oh, come on, Bones," he whines with Parker-like intensity. "You can't name a dog after..."

She kisses him. Square on the mouth. Holding him close with the wiggling puppy in between them.

He rubs his hand over the fuzzy head in his lap as he looks at Brennan. "Keep kissing me like that and you can name the dog whatever you want..." he says quietly.

"I intend to," she says equally as soft. "For the next thirty or forty or fifty years..."


	32. Seeing Someone?

**A/N - I know, I know...you want an update for **_**Crossing Lines. **_**But I needed to get this out of my system first...**

**Disclaimer - Because some of you still may not know this - I don't own **_**Bones**_**.**

"Seeing Someone?"

"It's so lovely to see you again, Temperance," Andrew Hacker says as she steps off of the elevator.

She clutches the file she's carrying to her chest and takes a step toward Booth's office as she smiles at his boss. "Hello, Andrew," she replies.

"I have tickets to a bluegrass festival this weekend and I was just wondering if...?" he begins to ask her. His smile reaches his eyes as he looks at her, imploring that she say yes.

She shakes her head. With an uncomfortable laugh, she tell him. "I'm afraid that won't be possible." She tilts her head in the direction of Booth's office. "If you'll excuse me."

"Of course," he says softly, his smile fading. When she gets to Booth's door, he turns to Charlie. "Did I miss something? Is she...?"

"Seeing someone?" the agent finishes the sentence for his boss.

Hacker nods and scratches his head.

"That's the rumor, sir," Charlie says with a shrug before heading back to his paperwork.

* * *

Booth walks around the desk, eyeing his partner. He crosses his arms as he faces her. "So," he says with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Yes, Booth?" she asks as she steps out of the view of the door.

"What's this rumor I hear about you seeing someone?" he asks.

She shrugs. "It's new. We've known each other for a while though," she says thoughtfully.

"Oh, yeah?" he questions softly. "What makes him so special?"

She steps into the circle of his embrace and turns her lips up for a soft kiss. "He called me 'Baby'."

"Baby," he repeats as his lips touch hers again.

"Uh-huh," she mumbles against his mouth. Pulling slightly away, she looks into his eyes and feels herself melting into the puddle of chocolate. "All night long." She kisses him again. Long and deep until they're both a little breathless.

"And," he says with a smile and twinkling eyes, "If he's lucky, he'll be doing it all over again. Tonight."


	33. Cheating

**A/N - This one goes to MarkandLexiefan who always makes me smile with her reviews asking that I "Please update soonish."**

**Disclaimer - I don't own **_**Bones**_**...but I did once get a (stuffed) hippopotamus for Christmas.**

Cheating

I'm sitting at the table reading the newspaper a couple days after Christmas when my 4-year-old comes up and tugs on the sleeve of my robe. When I lower my arm, he climbs into my lap and kisses me on the cheek. He sits there for a moment, kicking his pajama clad legs back and forth before stopping suddenly.

"Daddy?" he asks.

I take a sip of my coffee and put the cup down to give him my full attention. "Yeah, Bud?" He likes it when I call him Bud because it makes him like his big brother. Which is good for me because, as a teenager, Parker doesn't want to be called that anymore.

"Are you mad at Mommy?" he asks, a pensive expression on his face as he wrinkles his nose.

I cast a glance over the paper at my wife who stands on the other side of the kitchen getting the baby's breakfast ready. Looking back at our older child, I make a game out of hiding behind the paper with him. Narrowing my eyes I do my best to maintain a serious expression. "Should I be mad at Mommy?"

He nods his head and looks a little guilty. "Are you getting divorced?" he asks.

I can't stop myself from chuckling. "No, Bud. What gave you that idea?"

His face gets a little red and he looks like he's going to cry. He rubs at his eyes and leans against my chest. His feet start swinging again. "I was supposed to be in bed, but I saw..." his little voice chokes on the words before he finally spits them out. "I saw Mommy kissing Santa!"

I think about the suit that's hidden in the back of the closet in our bedroom. I think about how she and I spent hours setting up his train set and how, late that night, we had ended up under the mistletoe. There's no way I'm missing the opportunity to kiss Bones in that situation. Even when I'm dressed as Santa and she's warning me the kids might see.

I sigh. Explaining this one is going to be a bear. "Maybe she was just thanking him for hooking you up with that awesome train and the new bike," I say, hoping to distract him.

His eyes light up and he smiles. "It is a pretty cool train..."

Brennan joins us at the table and puts our daughter in the high chair. "What are you two up to?" she says as she ruffles his hair.

He slides out of my lap and grabs my hand. "Let's go play with my train," he says.

I lean in and give her a quick kiss. I smile at her and feel incredibly blessed for all she's given me - a son, a daughter, her love. Just before I'm dragged away I mouth the words "I'll tell you later."

The sound of her laughter is magic as we walk out of the room. It makes me want to get her under the mistletoe all over again.


	34. Equilibrium

**A/N - This isn't the fluffy kind of update you've been seeing in this story lately. I had a completely different idea when I started writing, but this is where it ended up. Funny how some things just happen on their own...**

**Disclaimer - I don't own **_**Bones**_**.**

Equilibrium

It's been over six months since Booth and Hannah's relationship ended. It wasn't anything either of them said or did. Brennan's confession played no part in it. They merely drifted apart, and one day Hannah was gone. Back to Afghanistan where she belonged.

To her credit, Brennan noticed the change in Booth immediately. She was like that now. More in-tuned with his little tells. Able to recognize a deeper level of emotion. Able to _feel_ rather than just observe. But she didn't question him. She didn't comment on Hannah's absence. She didn't ask if he needed time and space. She merely gave him both.

Somewhere along the way they'd forgotten all the hurt they'd caused each other. They'd gotten back in sync with one another. Renewed their friendship. They'd moved on. Moved on and, in a way, back to the dynamic duo they used to be. Before Hannah. Before the careless admissions and separation.

Tonight, they sit on Brennan's couch. Boxes of Thai food litter the coffee table. It's not the first time. Nor is it the second. Meals together have become frequent again. It's familiar, but different.

He teases her about the sauce that runs down her chin. They talk about Parker and Max. They talk about their godson and his developments.

What they don't talk about is work. It's not because they no longer work together. They do. It's not because there isn't a case to discuss. There is. And it's definitely not because there aren't any suspects. They've got one in lock-up.

It's that they've found balance. They've learned that there's more to life than just work. That friends and laughter make the job - and life - bearable. They've learned that you have to get lost in order to find your way home.

They're no longer teetering on the precipice of something. Because that 'something' happened a minute and a half ago. It happened when their eyes met and he smiled at her. When she leaned into his chest. When he felt her breath on his mouth just before her lips closed over his.

She shivers now as his hand finds its way into her hair. Using the hold, he angles her mouth beneath his. The kiss is thorough. A tender exploration. There's no one watching. No reason to rush. It's about learning. Feeling.

There's no fight for control. There aren't any questions or doubts. They're equals now. Finally, they've come together; two halves of the same whole. Yin and yang. A perfect balance.

And that line? The one he drew years ago? It's more than crossed. It's obliterated.


	35. Falling Into You

**A/N - I like this one a lot...though I'm not sure about the spot where I ended it. Since there have been no real complaints, on with the fluff! **

**Disclaimer - I don't own Bones.**

Falling Into You

"Thank you for driving me home, Booth," she says as she looks out the passenger window at the snow swirling around the SUV.

As much as he wants a glimpse of her face given the childlike wonder in her voice, he doesn't dare pry his eyes from the slick roadways. The treacherous commute home was the excuse he gave to get her in the vehicle with him after all. "No problem, Bones," he says with a smile.

"I've missed riding with you," she confesses. He wonders if she's blushing. The 'new' Brennan does from time to time.

"Me, too, Bones," he says on a sigh, "Me, too."

The rest of the trip is spent in silence. He contemplates the way things are and the way they used to be. Sitting at a traffic light, he looks at her and sees something different. Something that he's not sure he's see before. His heart swells in his chest. If she's happy, that's enough for him. It's all he needs.

Turning into her apartment complex, he cuts the engine and makes it to her side of the car just as her door swings open. He offers her his hand and, stubborn as always, she shakes her head and pushes past him. He follows her, his hand at her back. The gesture is both familiar and foreign. They've only just gotten back into this habit.

"Booth, while I appreciate that your alpha male proclivities dictate the necessity of walking me to my door, I really can make it from here." She doesn't look him in the eye and he doesn't back off. "With the roads this dangerous you shou...oh!"

He catches her as she slips on the walkway. In the split second it takes to get her in his arms, he looses his footing as well. Somehow, he manages to hold her tightly to his chest and take all the impact of the fall.

She looks down at him, the curtain of her auburn hair falling over one shoulder in a soft wave. Her hands rest on his chest. "That was very foolish," she says softly. "Your back..."

Yeah. His back would be bothering him in the morning, but he'd gladly take the pain to have her in his arms. He debates telling her, but he's promised himself that he's not going to push this time. He waited years before the Hoover and Hannah. He'll do it all over again. He'll bide his time. He'll have the patience and hope Gordon Gordon counseled. He should have taken that advice rather than impulsively listening to the 12-year-old shrink they had now.

Her eyes soften and a smile twitches at her lips. He watches as her lids flutter closed and her mouth slips softly, almost shyly, against his in a whisper of a kiss. He's afraid to move, to breathe, for fear of the moment vanishing.

She pulls back slightly. Not away, but enough to look down into the depths of his eyes. She watches his Adam's apple bob and feels the weight of his hands on her back.

His eyes search hers, looking for answers that he doesn't expect to find. They move to her mouth and hover there. Watching, waiting, unsure of what's to come.

She surprises his when she lowers her lips to his again. This kiss is different. If the last was a whisper, this is a shout. It's harder, the touch firm and lingering. Her tongue laces between his lips to lap against his.

He pulls back when his lungs begin to ache from the cold air. "Mmm, Bones?" he breathes against her lips. He kisses her cool cheek, his lips moving to her hair as she nuzzles her head toward his shoulder. "You think we could take this inside?" he asks. "I'm starting to get a little stiff."

She giggles in a very un-Brennan-like manner. Squirming slightly against him, she whispers against his ear, "More than a little."

"Bones!" he replies, squeezing his eyes shut as his cheeks turn pink.

She pulls back and looks at him. Her eyebrows lift. "It's a natural reaction, Booth. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Kissing is very sexually arousing and..."

"Um, Bones," he gulps. "While all that's true and I'll grant you there's plenty of evidence to support your conclusion, I was actually talking about my back..."


	36. Big Yellow Taxi

**Disclaimer - I don't own **_**Bones.**_

Big Yellow Taxi

His ex once told her there were moments. Moments when a couple caught fire and had a chance to make something beautiful or flamed out. She had said their relationship was the latter.

Temperance Brennan sits at the bar with a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon in her hand. As she sips the rich, full-bodied wine, she thinks about the moments that have passed her by. Moments of missed chances.

She looks at a couple on the dance floor. The woman's elegant frame leans in close to the man as she strokes the stubbly shadow on his cheek. They're her friends. She's happy for them.

She's not sure she believes in regrets any more than she believes in fate. If she did believe in regrets, she'd have more than one. Starting with waiting years between shared kisses.

It wasn't like she hadn't had plenty of chances:

When he saved her from the gravedigger. They'd held each other for a while. Shared a knowing look and a smile. But that was it. There wasn't anything more to it. Partners. Friends.

Their kiss between the mistletoe. It was far too brief, even though it was a whole flotilla - _whatever that means - _of steamboats. He'd helped make it the best Christmas she'd had in years. But she didn't go to him. She didn't seek more.

Finding him, naked, in that awful beer hat. She'd have liked to have done more than just kiss him then - even though she was angry. She could almost taste the skin of his abdomen just looking at him. She longed to trace the lines of his muscle definition with the tip of her tongue.

Rescuing him from certain death when he was kidnapped. Sometimes she still wonders why she didn't take his lips on the chopper. Kissing him like tomorrow would never come for either of them. She knows she would be lost without him.

When he came out of the coma. It was confusing, the way he interpreted her reading to him as their relationship. Maybe she should have kissed him until he was stirred back into reality. Maybe in his confusion, she could have convinced him that damn line of his didn't exist.

Then there was the airport. She sighs when she thinks about that one. Touching his hand. Promising to meet at the coffee cart. No longer partners. Only just barely friends. She left. She left for nothing...except that in leaving she may have found the love of a lifetime. One that would last 30 or 40 or 50 years.

But her biggest regret? Not having the guts to be with him a lot sooner. Not that it mattered anymore...

She looks around but doesn't see him. She sets her now empty glass on the edge of the bar and drops a few bills beside it. Taking out her phone, she texts to say she's going to catch a cab home.

"Bones!" he shouts as he comes out of the bar.

She turns, one foot in the cab and the other in the parking lot.

"I was on the phone with Parker longer than I meant to be." He hurries to her and slips a hand into her hair. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he looks at her adoringly. "Were you seriously going to let me watch you ride off in a cab without me again, baby?" he asks.

She leans up and kisses him soundly, her tongue slipping over his lower lip in a lazy caress. Looking at him, she raises an eyebrow. "I still might if you insist on calling me 'baby,'" she smirks.


	37. Blessed

**A/N - Did somebody order more fluff? Or snow for that matter? I know that some of you were excited by my snow days last week...and with more in the forecast, I'm left to wonder what some of you have on your Christmas lists. *wink***

**Disclaimer: Not mine...**

Blessed

Last night had brought the first real snow of the season. The thick powder dusted all surfaces of the yard and bathed everything in a pale glow. Their part of the earth was renewed again in a baptism of sorts.

He stands at the kitchen window drinking a cup of freshly brewed coffee. As the scene before him unfolds, he's suddenly glad they bought the drafty old house outside of the city. He's glad they they made it past the rough times. That they came through. Together.

He watches with a delighted smile as she plays with his kids in the snow. He hears their laughter even from inside the house. It renews him. It warms his heart and makes him realize how truly blessed - how _loved _- he is.

Pulling on his boots and donning his coat and gloves, he joins them. He laughs when Parker nails him with a snowball to the chest and reaches to make one of his own to lob back. His son is waiting for it - with a stick - and hits it back toward him. It shatters into fluffy pieces and is lost at his feet.

This delights and enchants his daughter. The three-year-old's laughter bubbles over as she waddles to him in her purple snowsuit. He lifts her into his arms, swinging her around and earning additional giggles.

"Down!" she commands. Taking his hand, she walks over to where her mother sits in the snow. she flops down on her back and kicks her arms and legs out. "Look, Daddy, an angel. Just like church!"

"I see that," he says with a wide grin.

"You do it!" she says as she struggles to get up.

A plan forms as he does what she asks. He fakes being unable to get up. "Could I get a hand here, Bones?"

Brennan chuckles and reaches out a hand to help Booth up. But he's ready for it. He yanks her down on top of him. Everyone's laughing now. But as he looks into the crystal blue of her eyes shining down at him, his laughter fades.

He slips a hand around to cup the back of her neck and drags her mouth down to his. Her lips are cool, but that says nothing about the woman that possesses them. Cool to the touch, but warm on the inside. _Iceland, baby._

He feels her grimace before the snow their child drops on her neck reaches him. He hears their little girl utter a phrase he's sure his son taught her. "That's disgusting!"

"Parker!" He growls in admonishment.

The boy just shakes his head. "Don't look at me, Dad," he says with a laugh and a trademark Booth smile. "You started it!"


	38. Talking 'It' Out

**A/N: For Laura - Thanks for keeping me company in the wee small hours of my morning.**

**Because so many of you asked for it, here's a follow up to **_**Falling Into You.**_

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Think I should have asked Santa for it?**

Talking 'It' Over

He's not sure what to do or how to react as they make their way to her apartment. Everything in him wants to hold her hand. But he doesn't. He doesn't because he's afraid it'll break the spell between them.

She casts a sideways glance in his direction. She's never felt like this before. She's not sure what to do. It's different. _Booth_ is different. She takes a deep breath, the corner of her mouth curling upward in a soft smile. She reaches out for his gloved hand and entwines her fingers with his.

_Relief._ There was no other word to describe it. He's waited years for her to make _some_ kind of move. He smiles back at her and squeezes her hand, willingly giving up _his_ spot on her back for this new intimacy.

She pulls her keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door to her condo. She looks at him expectantly.

For an instant, he debates leaving it there. Going home. Giving her time to think about it. But he knows that'd be a mistake. He knows he needs to capitalize. He won't let this be a wasted opportunity.

"Can I take your coat?" she asks politely.

He removes it and passes it to her, watching as she places it in the closet. When she moves into the kitchen, he drapes his suit coat over the back of one of the dining room chairs and loosens his tie.

She emerges from the kitchen with a beer in her hand and the phone pressed to her ear. "Twenty minutes? Yes, thank you." She hands him the drink with a smile. "Thai okay?"

Taking a chance, he leans in and brushes his lips over her forehead. "Sounds good," he says as he sips his beer.

She grabs the glass of wine she's poured for herself from the counter. He takes a drink as he watches the way her lips caress the rim of the glass.

"I'm not having intercourse with you tonight," she says abruptly.

Booth nearly chokes on his beer. A fine mist escapes his mouth before he gets himself under control. "Good to know, Bones."

She sets her glass on the edge of the table and takes a step toward him. Their eyes meet. "It's not because I don't want to," she says softly.

He wraps his arms around her waist. He smiles cockily at her and raises his eyebrows, "So you do want me."

She grins at him as her hands slip up the wall of his chest. "Very much," she sighs, a hand coming to rest over his heart while the other cups his neck.

He strokes his hands up her back in a light caress. "But there's no need to rush it." He'd rushed things with Hannah, taking her straight to bed. Though he was able to fool himself into believing it was something else for a while, he could now admit that he understood what she meant about satisfying biological urges.

Her eyes drop to his mouth and she leans in to kiss him, eager to learn the feel of his lips dancing over hers. Her tongue flickers lightly against his lips and he moans as he pulls her closer, cradling her against the heat of his body.

"Booth?" she murmurs against his lips.

He pulls back worried that he's gone too far, too fast. That his ache to have her close has driven her away. "Yeah, Bones?"

She snuggles closer and places a row of kisses down the strong line of his jaw. She sighs and some of his tension fades as she kisses him gently. "I just thought I should tell you," she whispers as she melts like chocolate against his mouth. "This is going somewhere..."


	39. The Name Game

**A/N - So many people wanted the answer to Brennan's choice of name in **_**Booth's Favorite Blonde **_**that I've decided to give it to you.**

**SouthunLady - This one should especially tickle your funny bone. It's my Christmas gift to you.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. But if wishes were horses, pigs would fly...**

The Name Game

They had been sitting in bed drinking coffee, bickering over the newspaper, when she'd found the classified ad.

_Golden Retriever puppies. Three males, one female. 10 wks old. First set of shots. Dewormed. Call Nancy._

She had gotten that look in her eye. The one that told him she was up to something. The one he could - and would - never be able to resist. "Can we go, Booth?" she asked, her voice almost child-like.

The whole ride out to Berryville, she said she just wanted to look. That she knew that she didn't _need_ a dog. That there was just something about being around puppies.

He knew she was trying to convince herself. He knew she'd had a plan for adopting Ripley. That she would make it work. Her willingness to commit to something - anything - long term had him wondering if she might be changing her mind about her thoughts on marriage. But that was a different conversation.

When they'd gotten to the farm, they'd looked at at all four pups, but it was the female that had stolen her heart. While the boys loafed around in the grass, the female had run after them. She'd tugged on his shoelaces and play-bowed to Brennan. Next thing he knew, they had a dog.

"What do you want to call her?" she'd asked on the ride back.

"How do you feel about Lola?" he asked. He knew that Brennan wouldn't get the Kinks reference, but the name amused him.

Brennan scrunched up her nose and shook her head. She stroked the sleeping puppy's head. "I was thinking Hannah..." she said as she looked out the window.

"Whoa," he replied. He gripped the steering wheel tightly. "You cannot name the dog after my ex-girlfriend."

"I don't see why not," she replied matter-of-factly. "I've always liked the name Hannah and you've always had a thing for blondes."

"Not anymore, Bones," he told her. "Now I only have a thing for you."

"All the more reason that you shouldn't be offended by the name, Booth," she reasoned.

He'd lobbied and cajoled. He'd begged and offered up other choices. Brennan wouldn't budge.

_Hannah._ A constant reminder of the little bitch that had almost come between them. And did when she curled up between them in bed later that night.


	40. 40 Years

**A/N - I wrote this one in July and decided to hold it for last if I ever decided to post this story. I think it's a good way to wrap up this project - 40 Chapters, the last of which being 40 Years.**

**To lalaurala-bones - you were the only person I told 40 was the magic number. Happy Birthday! Hope you find this to be a fitting end to the series.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

40 Years

He moves silently to her headstone. The kids linger nearby but stay far enough away to give him space.

_Dr. Temperance "Bones" Brennan-Booth_

_Beloved Wife and Mother_

Sometimes he still can't believe she's gone. Today would have been their 40th wedding anniversary. Bone Cancer. _Fate was cruel._

He rests uneasily on his cane and shifts to lay a bouquet of daffodils on her grave before moving to sit on a nearby bench. "Happy Anniversary, Bones," he says. He chuckles at how she always used to tease him about talking to headstones. "You gave me 39 glorious years and three beautiful children. Baby, for a while I had it all. _We_ had it all. If you were here now, you'd be so proud," he glances over at their children and grandchildren.

"Parker has been working hard saving lives." There are times he still can't believe his oldest child is a trauma surgeon. "He's been tormenting his interns." He laughs. They used to torment _her_ interns.

"Chrissy just published her 8th novel." Christine followed in her mother's literary footsteps. "Because I know you care about that stuff; yes, it's on the list." He'll always remember the day Chrissy's third novel knocked Bones out of the number one slot on the best seller list. As competitive as she was, Brennan couldn't have been more proud of their daughter.

"Hank and Sarah are expecting another baby. David is almost as excited about being a big brother as Parker was when we had Chrissy." Their middle child was the only one who had chosen law enforcement as a career. He had held Booth's old position as liaison to the Jeffersonian until the Institute threatened to sever the relationship if he wasn't replaced. He'd also been the only one to match Brennan's lack of social skill. The difference was he didn't have his mother's brains to bail him out.

"And Emily," he shakes his head thinking about their youngest. Emily has Brennan's brains and his gut. The perfect balance of their personalities in a single being. "She's just taken over what used to be your position at the Jeffersonian. Oh, and you know how I was always worried about Chrissy and the Hodgins boy? Well, turns out it was Em I needed to worry about." Billy, Jack and Angela's middle child, wasn't too bad. He'd taken control of the Canteliever Group and was running things for his old man. He's steady and responsible. "Angela really wants them to get married. I told her that Em was headstrong like her mom so not to hold her breath."

He scratches his balding head. "How is it that Hank's the only one of our children that isn't a squint?"

Suddenly a little blur runs up to him. "Whatcha doin', Pops?" David asks as he scrambles into Booth's lap.

"Talking to Nana," he replies wistfully as he helps the child onto his knee.

The little boy shakes his head. "That's impossible. Nana Bones is in Heaven."

Booth hugs the kid tightly as the reminder of her this time draws moisture to his eyes instead of a laugh. "Just like you, Bones," he mumbles softly as a tear drips down his cheek and is lost in the boy's chestnut curls. "They all remind me of you..."


End file.
